Intermission

[Willie Barbary]

“Ugh! That’s it!” Willie tromped out of the bathroom of her and Miller’s bunk aboard the Plunder, where she had just gotten sick for what seemed like the twentieth straight day in a row, scowling.

Her boyfriend sat at the small table, shirtless, one bare foot propped up on another chair while he carefully sharpened, cleaned and examined an enormous array of blades laid out in front of him. The dark-haired former Mamba didn’t look up from his work at her furious screech, merely continued oiling down one of what looked to be over a hundred hiltless, deadly throwing knives.

“What’s the matter, Willie,” he murmured calmly. Which grated like sand-paper over her already shortened nerve-endings.

“I’m sick and tired of throwing up, that’s what’s wrong!” she snarled. Then she suddenly held up one of her hands—going from spitting mad to depressed in seconds—lip quivering and gray eyes flooding with tears as it revealed her left pointer nail much, much shorter than the others. “And I broke a goddamned nail!” she wailed pitiably then.

Miller sighed, glancing up at that, dark eyes sympathetic but his expression as neutral as always. “Why don’t you go ahead and go see Dr. Reyes? I called ahead while you were in the bathroom. She says she’s not busy right now, she’d be more than happy to give you an exam to see what’s wrong.”

Willie pouted, shuffling forward. Miller set his knives aside just in time to make room for the curvy pilot, who crawled up somewhat unceremoniously into his lap. Yet he wrapped his strong arms around her anyway, nuzzling her hair when she buried her face into his neck and continued to sniffle in depressed melancholy.

“I hate medical exams,” she mumbled petulantly. Miller sighed again, arms tightening.

“You’ve been sick for weeks, Willie,” he prodded gently. “It’s not going away. It’s not just a flu bug, or something bad you ate. Something’s wrong, and you’re not going to get any better until you go see Dr. Reyes and let her check you out.” He hesitated for a minute, continuing to pet her golden-brown curls, then, “would it help if I went with you?”

Willie snorted at that, however, scowling. That’s just what she needed Dagger Leopold overhearing; that she was scared to go get a physical by herself. The former bounty-hunter sneered enough down her nose at the pilot as it was. “I’m not five,” she snapped, perhaps a little more harsh than she really meant, but as usual Miller refused to take offense to it.

Willie continued to cuddle into his front for several minutes, putting it off for as long as she could. Miller continued to hold her silently but, even though he didn’t say a word, she still felt her guilt increase with every minute that passed. Until the tiny woman finally got off of her boyfriend with a groan. “Alright, alright! I’m going! I’m going! Stop nagging me, already! I swear, you’re worse than my mother!”

Miller just twitched an eyebrow with a faint smirk before shaking his head and reaching for his knives again.

Willie sighed heavily as she dragged her feet out of their bunk and down the hall toward the med-bay. The small curvy woman’s entire demeanor was dejected and slumped over as she walked, catching more than one curious stare from the various pirates moving to and fro around her—though none wanted to risk her recent short temper enough to ask her what was wrong. In due time she had made it to the dreaded medical bay, and after another deep fortifying breath she stepped through the automatic doors.

The tall, statuesque Doctor Andromeda Reyes turned from where she was already standing next to her state-of-the-art DSI, a computer tablet in her hands. The half-Latina woman smiled comfortingly in a clearly nervous Willie’s direction.

“Ah, Ms. Barbary. Please, come in. Mr. Miller already called ahead and told me that you would be coming.” The pilot did as she was told, shoulders drooped. The doctor eyed her sympathetically. “Go ahead and get settled up here, and tell me what symptoms you’ve been having.”

Willie used the step stool near by to get up onto the large scanning machine, wincing as she laid back into the form-fitting blue foam examination bed. “I’ve been getting sick at least once a day, every day for the past month it seems,” she pronounced heavily, blinking up at the bright lights above her. Dr. Reyes handed her tablet over to the lavender-haired android that had become her assistant/nurse, and the pilot tensed as the older woman began tapping out directions into the DSI’s control panel. “Ah . . . I-I . . . I’ve also been really tired, too,” Willie continued uncomfortably. “I feel exhausted all the time, even though I’m getting plenty of sleep. Hell, I’ve even started taking naps during the day, but they don’t seem to be helping any.”

The doctor ‘hm-med’ softly to herself, sounding intrigued. Which, for someone in Willie’s current position, wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Dr. Reyes punched a few more buttons, and suddenly a holographic image of herself was projected about two feet above her. After a moment, the clothes were shed, then the skin, followed by the muscle until all that remained were her bones, veins and organs. Willie made a face, slightly grossed out.

The doctor however suddenly blinked, golden eyes widening. She glanced from the image down to the computer display in front of her, then back to the hologram. “Huh. Well. This one’s new.”

Willie turned to stare at her with wide eyes, dread filling her. “What in the hell do you mean, ‘this is new?’ Don’t tell me I’ve got some crazy, bad-ass incurable disease or gigantic tumor or something!”

Doctor Reyes laughed at that, shaking her head. “No, Ms. Barbary. Nothing like that. You do have an . . . ‘infection’ of a sort. But it’s one that will work itself out in about seven months’ time.” At Willie’s continued look of flabbergasted confusion, the doctor finally took pity on her and sighed. “You’re not sick, Willie,” she murmured kindly. “Just pregnant.”

The curvy woman stared at Dr. Reyes for a solid minute, unblinking. “I’m what?”

“Pregnant,” the older woman parroted obliviously, smiling. “About two and a half months along, if this scanner is reading correctly. I must admit it’s a bit of a shock to me as well, as we’ve never had this particular condition come up on the ship before, as you can imagine. Though it’s rather exciting as well. I’ve never delivered any babies before, so I’ll have to do a bit of research on the subject, of course. As well as a thorough study of everything you’ll need in the interim, vitamin supplements and whatnot—Willie, are you alright?”

The pilot’s hazel-brown skin had gone a shade too pale, gray eyes widened to their limits, beginning to pant a little in abject shock and dread. “H-how is that even possible!” she sputtered in a near-hysterical wail. “I can’t be pregnant! I can’t!”

The doctor winced a little, her expression becoming a mix between sympathetic and bland. “Ah, I imagine you very well can be, if the amount of lost sleep on your side of the ship is any indication. Neither you or Mr. Miller approached me concerning birth control, so I assumed you had either taken care of it on the Cove or weren’t interested in such precautions.”

Willie gaped, then groaned long and loudly, covering her face with her hands. She hadn’t sought out any form of birth control because it hadn’t occurred to her to think it was necessary. Military vessels constantly pumped out an airborne form of it into the air recyclers, as well as included healthy doses into the food. She had been so long on the government-rationed variety that it hadn’t even occurred to her that she would need to do otherwise. Yet she and Miller had both been off a military ship for nearly three months now. Plenty of time for any one of their frequent bouts of sex to have produced a kid.

The curvy pilot started shaking a little then, slipping into full-on shock. Oh God, I’m pregnant. I’m an outlaw pirate and I’m pregnant. Oh God.

Willie tensed a little when the doctor suddenly put her hand on her shoulder. She glanced up to meet the older woman’s uncertain stare. “I’m sorry, Willie. I just assumed that this would be happy news. If . . . if you don’t want the baby, however, there are measures that can be taken to rid your body of the fetus. It hasn’t developed enough yet for that to be a danger, though it will have to be done soon if that’s what you want to do.”

As much of a complication as this was going to be, Willie’s heart and mind immediately rebelled violently at the thought of having an abortion, so she quickly shook her head. “No, I don’t want to get rid of it,” she forced out. “I just . . . I need time to think.”

The doctor nodded in agreement. “Rest here for a moment. Katy and I will start pulling up some information and see what needs to be done and what we can do for you right now with the supplies we have on hand.”

Willie laid back on the bed and did her best to calm down and think rationally while Dr. Reyes and the lavender-haired android turned away and began pouring over computer tablets. She blinked up at the lights above her through the tears that were suddenly flooding her vision. And no doubt her overly emotional state was probably due to the out-of-whack hormones she now knew were raging through her system, too. This and other, more subtle symptoms suddenly began making sense as well. How her breasts seemed so much more sensitive of late, and even a little bigger, and the random hot flashes she’d been having the past few days.

Willie combed her hands into her hair, breath hitching. Oh God, what am I gonna tell Miller?

While it was true, her ex-Mamba boyfriend was pretty much calm and collected about everything, she had to believe that finding out he was about to be a father would have at least some sort of effect on him. What if it was an adverse one? She couldn’t imagine that having a baby this early into the game was in any way part of his plans. They hadn’t even been dating a year. Hell, they’d barely been dating for five months. Now all of a sudden she was pregnant.

Fang would be ecstatic, though. That thought made Willie smile, despite the fear and depression trying to take her over. At least one person would be unabashedly happy about this unexpected turn of events.

After a moment Dr. Reyes returned. She gave Willie a series of shots—something to boost her immune system as well as strengthen her after being so ill. She also gave the pilot what vitamins and supplements she had on hand, but mentioned that they would have to buy several other items the next time they hit a port. As the ship just wasn’t stocked with the sort of things needed for proper prenatal care, which Willie would need in the coming months if she and the baby were to be kept healthy.

“I’m also ordering you off of active duty for the remainder of your pregnancy,” the doctor announced sternly, tone broking no argument when Willie opened her mouth to protest. “No combat under any circumstances. Any type of trauma could endanger the baby. I’ll speak to the Captain myself later today to make sure she’s aware of the changes.”

Willie sighed loudly, but finally accepted it with a nod. She left then, with a promise to come back in a few days for another check-up. The pilot made her way back to her bunk even slower than she’d left it, her mind and heart in turmoil. By the time she finally arrived, she’d run the gamut of emotions; from fear to depression to elation to fury.

Unable to properly process them all, she opened her mouth and let loose a barrage of angry accusations as soon as she put her foot through the door and saw Miller—still sitting where she’d left him. He eyed her in faint surprise, expression as calm as always. He remained silent as she paced back and forth, calling him everything but an upright, walking, white male human being, dragging his lineage into the mud and stomping on it vengefully. She had just started good on cursing his distant ancestors for yellow-bellied, neo-Nazi murderers when he finally managed to get a word in edgewise, when she’d paused to take in a deep breath.

“So what did the doctor say?”

Willie spun on him, letting out a small screech of fury. “I’m pregnant, you inconsiderate prick!” And then she drew up at that with a jerk, eyes widening, suddenly terrified of what his reaction would be.

Miller just blinked his dark eyes at her, looking somewhat stunned for a moment. Then his eyebrows lifted curiously. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

Willie made a noise of frustration, throwing her hands up. “How in the hell should I know! You have to be like four or five months along before you know that! Doctor Reyes says I’m probably about two and a half—wait a minute,” she suddenly cut herself off, eyes narrowing and jabbing a nail in his direction. “Why aren’t you any more freaked out about this?”

Miller sighed a little blandly at that, rolling his eyes slightly. “Willie, when have you ever known me to get freaked out about anything?”

Willie’s temper ignited again at that, however, scowling furiously. “Well excuse me for thinking that finding out you’re about to be a father might actually stir some kind of reaction out of your cold, unfeeling ass!”

Miller didn’t seem to react much to that either. Merely glanced away a little, as if lost in thought. “Are you going to want to keep it?” he questioned then, tone musing. “Because if so, we’re going to need to ask the Captain for a bigger bunk.”

Willie just gaped at him, hurt beyond measure. “Oh my God! Miller! I can’t believe you’d even say that!” He turned back to her then, looking even more surprised at the tears suddenly flooding her eyes. “Of course I’m going to keep it, what kind of heartless bitch do you take me for?! That was cold even for you, Randolph!” Willie tossed out his first name then, feeling especially vindictive.

Miller grimaced somewhat at that, but simply refused to lose his calm. Instead he got to his feet and loped over to her, reaching up to rub her shoulders whether she liked it or not, seemingly ignoring the way she was angrily trying to squirm away from him. “Relax, sweetie,” he murmured softly. “I’m just trying to figure out what we’re gonna do next, is all.”

Willie shot him a narrow-eyed glare. “What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do! You wanna know what we’re gonna do? I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do! I’m gonna—,” She suddenly stopped mid-sentence, eyes going wide. Her hand flew to her mouth as her sensitive stomach suddenly heaved in protest. “Oh God, I think I’m gonna be sick again.”

Her stomach heaved again, and Willie turned on her heel, pelting for the bathroom. She fell to her knees in front of the toilette just in time to empty out what little was left in her. Miller was suddenly beside her, however, as she retched somewhat pitiably. Kneeling next to her, rubbing her back, brushing her curly hair back from her face and murmuring soft nonsense meant to soothe.

He held up a hand towel when she finally sat back, helping her clean up, and grabbed a cup of water so she could rinse her mouth out as well. And then Willie was curling into his chest with a broken sob, her arms wrapped tight around his middle. Miller just held her, as calm and nonjudgmental as ever, his cheek rubbing into her hair. “We’re going to be okay, Willie,” he murmured softly into her curls, arms tightening. “I promise.”

She cuddled closer with a heavy sigh, eyes squeezing shut. “But what are we gonna do now?” She felt him shrug.

“Take it one day at a time. I don’t have any more answers than you do, sweetheart. But I do know that I love you. And I’ll love this baby, too. We’re safe, and we’re together, and that’s all that really matters, right? Everything else is just minor details.”

Willie laughed a little through her tears, but his words soothed her as much as his touch did. She lifted up a little so she could look up at him, finding his expression soft and tender, brown eyes lit up with the same. “You really sure you’re okay with this? I mean . . . I know you didn’t necessarily plan on things happening quite like this—,”

The curvy pilot was cut off with a kiss, as passionate as it was sweet. “I might have wanted to wait a little while longer,” he admitted when he pulled away after a moment, “until things were less uncertain.” Miller stared down at her then, dark eyes suddenly fierce and intent. “But there isn’t anything I don’t love about the idea of you having my baby, Willie,” he growled, tone gone somewhat hoarse with emotion and a touch of something else.

And there was that cave-man possessive streak that drove her wild. Willie had heard it told that being pregnant made a woman more horny too. At least, that’s what she blamed it on when she suddenly pounced on him at that, her nails fisting into his dark hair while she kissed him deep and hungrily. Miller returned her affection ten-fold, a soft, hoarse groan tearing from his chest when he scooped her up and then carried her back into the main room.

For once their lovemaking was a lot less rough and hurried than it usually was. Instead it was achingly slow and gentle, so hot and sweet it stole her breath more than once. Either from the emotions running rampant in the both of them, or some unspoken fear of hurting the baby, the exact reason was uncertain. In any event Willie was boneless and exhausted by the end, curled up into Miller’s chest as he held her in the tangled covers.

A faint smile pulled at her mouth when one of his hands suddenly rubbed across her still-flat belly beneath the sheets, gently caressing. “Do you want a boy or a girl?” She felt him shrug a little in response.

“I don’t care,” he answered, “so long as it’s ours.” Willie snorted at that, as she had anticipated that sort of noncommittal answer, though the second half of it had her heart squeezing. She sighed, herself.

“I hope it’s a boy. I always got along with boys better than girls,” she admitted in way of an explanation. “And we have to name him something normal,” the pilot pronounced then rather forcefully, scowling. “Nothing like this off-the-wall bullshit our parents were enamored with. Something tried and true. Maybe even a little boring. Like John or David or James or Stephen or something.” Miller just chuckled, planting an affectionate kiss into her hair. Willie groaned a little then, eyes squeezing. “Oh God, now I gotta work up the nerve to tell my parents. They’re gonna flip out.”

Miller was silent for a minute, then, “well maybe we should tell them in person?” Willie lifted her head to stare at him and his eyebrow lifted slightly. “You could call your parents and tell them to meet us on Earth, or something. It would only take us a few days to get there from here if we took the shuttle. If we used some of the less-traveled shipping lanes, I think we’d be okay. We could meet with my parents first to give them the news, and then meet with your parents somewhere inconspicuous and public, to break it to them. Maybe over dinner or something. And then meet back up with the Plunder afterward.”

Willie just snorted a little, cuddling her face back into his chest. “That’s a great way to meet the parents of your significant other,” she droned somewhat dryly. “Hi, nice to meet you! I love your son and, oh, by the way, I’m pregnant and I’m gonna be having his kid any day now. Pass the salt, would you?”

Miller just shook his head a little, smiling wryly at her blunt humor. Then he sighed a little. My mother's response would be to be disappointed by the lack of a ring on your finger, and my father would give me a stern lecture about responsibility. Other than that, they’ll adore you.”

Willie chuckled a little herself. “Yeah, my mom’s probably going to be throwing out the ‘so when are you getting married’ question pretty heavy herself,” she admitted heavily. The idea of marriage was just as monumental and scary as the thought of having a baby, however. One thing at a time, Willie decided somewhat shakily, resolving not to dwell on it for now. “My dad’ll probably try and convince me to come back to Mars with him,” she continued blandly. “Again.”

Miller’s expression went carefully blank. “I'll just have to show him how safe you are with me,” he said casually, but that possessive look in his eye was no joke. Willie just sighed at that, cuddling back into his chest.

Nicholas Barbary hated the idea of his only daughter traipsing around the system with an ex-Mamba pirate, and when he found out she was pregnant he was likely going to become ten-times more ridiculous with his attempts to try and convince her to come back home. Which Miller—with as protective and possessive as he was—wouldn’t take kindly to at all.

Willie had a sneaking suspicion that this whole situation was going to get a lot worse before it got any better.

[Dr. Andromeda Reyes]

Andromeda sighed a little as she made her way toward Josetta’s quarters. Sure, she could have probably contacted her on the comm. just as easily but, as this was a somewhat monumental bit of news, she wanted to share it in person. Plus, she was probably looking for any reason to see Jo anyway, and this one was rather convenient and wrapped up nice and neatly into a perfectly legitimate excuse.

The doctor approached the door and then pressed the hailing button, absently straightening her coat with a gentle tug. Her eyes widened a little in faint surprise when the portal opened a moment later, however, revealing Morgan instead of the Captain. The two stared at each other for several heart-beats, in an uncomfortable, heavy silence that stretched out in front of them. Finally Andromeda managed to find her voice and her composure, clearing her throat.

“Ah, Mr. Halcyon. There’s been a development with someone on the ship that I need to discuss with you and the Captain.”

His dark face clouded slightly with confusion and worry, but he stepped back at that and allowed her room to enter. Josetta was sitting at her desk with her coat draped over a near-by chair, her own expression now laced with curiosity and faint concern.

“What’s the problem, Andi?” Josetta questioned, apparently doing her best to ignore the faint air of uncomfortable tension that filled up the room with the three of them in it at the same time. Andromeda lifted her chin, focusing on the business at hand and doing her best to do the same.

“I’ve just found out that someone on the ship is pregnant.”

Strangely enough, Morgan’s face suddenly went slack with shock, brown eyes wide and almost spooked. Andromeda didn’t dwell on it for long, however, figuring it was just a typical male reaction to a rather feminine problem. No doubt he was worried that it was one of his boarder crewmen, and that he was about to lose one of his fighters to child-birth. Josetta’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, however, grinning.

“Oo, a baby!” Then she blanched with a wince. “Crap, a baby on a pirate ship. Not exactly the best combination.” Her blue eye sharpened on Andromeda again. “Wait, who is it? Allison? Jane?” That eye suddenly narrowed into a deadly slit. “It sure as hell better not be Cassi.”

Though neither woman noticed it, Morgan flinched in the background, and went a couple more shades too pale.

Andromeda scowled. “No, no, not Cassi.” Morgan visibly loosened with a sigh of relief. “She’s not even sexually active yet,” the older sister continued, tone assured. Both women missing the way the First Mate was now shifting on his feet in massive amounts of uncomfortable guilt. “No, it’s Willie Barbary.”

Jo grinned. “Miller’s girlfriend? Hah! Well I suppose that shouldn’t be much of a surprise. Those two go at each other like rabbits, if Cooper’s loud complaints can be in any way believed.”

Andromeda just shook her head a little with a wry chuckle. “She’s about two months along, according to the scan I did on the DSI.” She sighed. “I’m an emergency surgeon, not a pediatric doctor. But I think I should be able to manage, after I do a bit of research on the subject. There’s several things we’ll need to pick up the next time we hit a port, however. Vitamins, prenatal supplements and other equipment that the Plunder isn’t generally outfitted with. And I’ve also ordered her to stay off of active duty until three months after she has the baby,” Andromeda announced affirmatively. “No combat and no flying whatsoever.”

Jo just nodded in agreement, then smirked. “Miller’ll just have to make up the slack,” she chuckled. The redhead did seem to love to test the former Mamba. Andromeda got the impression that she was almost trying to groom him for something, though that that could possibly be she had absolutely no clue.

After a brief moment of silence—with the doctor and the redheaded Captain staring at each other somewhat longingly and the First Mate watching with that cold, sad look of resignation—Andromeda suddenly dropped her eyes to the floor away from Josetta’s face, folding her hands in front of her with a slight clearing of her throat. “Well, at any rate, I just wanted you to be aware of that. I’ll be in medical, if I’m needed. Good day, Captain. Mr. Halcyon.”

And then she turned on her heel and made a hasty retreat.

[Dr. Andromeda Reyes]

Andromeda yawned as she made her way toward medical. The slender doctor was doing her best not to dwell on the fact that it would be her birthday in less than a week's time. She would officially pass over that dreaded hurdle. She would turn thirty this year.

She would officially be a thirty year old virgin.

Andromeda made a face, forcing herself to stop thinking about it. She had sworn Cassiopeia to secrecy already, so the blond teen had promised not to say anything or remind anyone. Andromeda was fairly certain no one else would realize what day it was, at least not until well after the fact. That way she could wallow in her misery and self-pity in peace.

The doctor entered into the med-lab, already going over all of the things she would need to sort, catagorize and catalogue for the day. Only to blink in surprise when she came inside and realized that everything--absolutely everything--in the lab was neatly sorted and put away with almost surgical precision. Andromeda gaped, then slowly turned to Katy, who stood near-by in her new white and blue uniform, fidgeting nervously.

"I-I hope you don't mind, Doctor," she murmured. "I . . . I don't sleep, and I've been studying your methods and patterns for a few days now, so I thought I would help and finish your sorting for you." At Andromeda's continued look of flabbergasted disbelief, the android winced, lavender eyes growing pained. "I'm sorry if I overstepped," she finished in a softer whimper.

"No! No, no, Katy," Andromeda quickly backpedaled, stepping forward to pat the pretty android on the shoulder comfortingly. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm not upset, just stunned. I keep forgetting about your capabilities is all." Andromeda gave a wry chuckle. "I'll just have to come up with something else to fill my hours, hm?" Katy nodded a little at that, smiling. Andromeda smiled back. "Now, do me a favor and go check on our last patients. I want to make sure they're making a steady recovery."

They had awoken the last two coma patients a few days ago, Roy and Seigfried. They seemed to be doing ok, but Andromeda didn't want to take any chances. Katy nodded readily, turning around to fetch a diagnostic kit before heading for the door. The Latina sighed a little heavily after she'd left.

Andromeda tended to use her never-ending sorting and catagorization as a means of escapism. But now, with a super-intelligent android for an assisstant, it looked as though she was going to have gobs and gobs of free time on her hands with nothing else to do but think about things. Like the fact that she was a pathetic near-thirty year old virgin.

Andromeda made a face at that, then stalked into her office. Surely there was something she could do to entertain herself.

Hours later--after she had called both Dane and T.K. into the med-bay and pestered them until they'd consented for a full re-examination in order to make sure they were healing okay--Andromeda was sitting at her computer terminal, sipping at coffee and boredly indexing blood-types and genetic markers of everyone on the ship.

She'd started with the Captain of course. And reorganized her files about four times before she was satisfied with them. And then everyone else she completed in alphabetical order. Andromeda moved to the next file on her list, which happened to be Christian Monroe. She began organizing his information, and then suddenly froze. Her brow furrowed a little. No . . . it couldn't be . . . . As anal as the doctor could be, she probably wouldn't have caught it if she hadn't been poking around in Josetta's file for over an hour. Breath caught, Andromeda quickly brought that file back up, and nearly strangled on her gasp of air when her suspicions were proven true.

She reached for her comm. "Captain! You're needed in the medical bay immediately!"

There was a pause, then, "Immediately, immediately? Or just immediately? Like are we talking life-or-death, or did you just run out of gauze again?" Andromeda scowled.

"Captain--,"

"What'd I tell you about that, Andi?"

"Josetta, please!" she finally catipulated, tone desparate. "It's important!"

"Alright, alright. Calm down, baby, I'm on my way."

Moments later the tall redhead strode into the medical lab, turning curiously when Andromeda shot to her feet, wringing her hands nervously. The other woman's blue eye narrowed somewhat at the doctor's obviously spooked expression. "What's wrong?"

"I-I was sorting through everyone's medical files," she started rambling a little. "I was catagorizing them by blood-types and indexing their genetic markers."

Jo winced a little, expression pained. "Wow . . . were you really that bored?" Then the captain smirked, expression suddenly wicked. "Because if that's the case, I can think up all sorts of things to keep you occupied. Namely in my bunk."

Andromeda colored slightly, in no way amused by Josetta's continued teasing. She snatched her terminal and twisted it around to where the redhead could see. The captain just blinked down at the screen for a moment, obviously not seeing what the problem was. Andromeda helpfully pointed it out.

"This is your file," she pronounced, "and this is Christian Monroe's."

"And?"

"And your blood types are exactly the same!" she snapped. "Your genetics are almost completely identical! The only difference is that he's male and a Magi!"

"What are you saying exactly, Andi? Stop with all the doctor-speak and spit it out in plain English."

Andromeda wrung her hands a little, eyes wide. "Josetta I think . . . I think you both share the same parents."

Josetta's face went a little slack with shock, her blue eye blinking. ". . . are you saying that Mr. Personality is my little brother?"

Andromeda bent to her computer, bringing up Alexandria Wright's file, and revealing that half of her genetic markers were matching up with both Josetta and Christian. "In a manner of speaking . . . yes. Obviously your mother didn't actually give birth to him, she was in chryostasis at the time. But I think this confirms his suspicions that he was incubated in an artificial womb. Both of your parents were highly recognized, very decorated and extremely public military figures. I'm sure the government must have had samples of their DNA in storage." The Latina lifted up to stare at Josetta, her gold eyes a mixture of sadness and disgust. "And it seems like just the sort of thing they would try to do. Recreate King and Queen Cobra, with a dash of Magi powers for extra umph."

Josetta just stared down at the terminal for a moment, then turned back to her. "Have you told either of them yet?" She shook her head, and the Captain grinned. "Good, cause I want you to tell them at the same time. And I want to be there when you do it."

Andromeda made a face, sighing somewhat heavily in exaspiration. "Jo, this isn't a joke. I'm not even so sure that we should tell Christian. He's already so unstable as it is, and he's been doing his ultimate best to try and attack Alex ever since she woke up. Finding out that she's his mother could have drastically damaging effects to his mental state."

Josetta's expression was firm. "Or it could be just the push he needs to help him heal from being trained and conditioned all of his life to be nothing more than an automic killing machine. Meet me in my quarters in a half-hour. We'll tell them then."

And then with that the Captain left, stride purposeful, no doubt to track down her mother and her--genetically at least--little brother.

[Willie Barbary]

Willie did her best to smile at the comm. terminal as it suddenly lit up, showing the face of an exceptionally pretty black woman, despite the fact that she was now in her later years. Dressed to the hilt even at rest in her own home, Zaira Soren-Barbary had dark cocoa skin, glossy black curls and sharp brown eyes that lit up at the sight of her daughter on the other end of the communication's terminal.

"Willona! Oh, it's so good to see your face, pumpkin! I was starting to get panicky when you didn't return my call last week! I thought surely you had been killed or sold into slavery or who knows what else on that pirate ship you're flying on and what on Mars' name are you wearing, lambikins?" Zaira finished in a faintly horrified tone, taking in the simple cap-sleeved blue t-shirt and baggy blue-jeans that Willie was currently dressed in.

The pilot took a deep breath, rolling her eyes a little. "Nothing you haven't seen me wear before, mom."


The pretty socialite made a moue of sadness. "Well a mother can hold out hope that you'll discover your femininity one of these days," she groaned sadly. Willie snorted a little to herself.

Oh, mother, you have no idea . . . .

"So, anyway," Willie called, trying to deter her mother's attention elsewhere. "Miller and I will be making a stop off on Earth in a week. You think you and Dad might find an excuse to find yourselves there at around the same time? We could have dinner or something somewhere. I'd really like you guys to meet him."

For all her airheaded tendencies, Zaira was not a fool and not nearly as brainless as most typically took her for. Her dark eyes sharpened slightly on the face of her only child. "You're quite taken with your soldier-turned-pirate, aren't you, pumpkin."

Willie colored a little guiltily. "What makes you say that?" Zaira just grinned.

"You've never offered to introduce us to any of your boyfriends. I usually have to beg, plead and threaten you for months before you give in and bring him to see me."

"Yeah, well . . . Miller is--,"

"Different," her mother interjected softly. She stared at her somewhat stricken daughter for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Willona. I'm certain I can convince your father that I am in desperate, dire need of a holiday in London, effective immediately."

Willie smirked. "Are you sure?" Zaira waved her hands, expression confident.

"Trust me, sweetheart. You don't have a marriage that lasts for over thirty years without knowing your spouse inside and out. Your father can't say no to me on anything, you know that as well as I do."

Willie couldn't argue the truth. The younger female made a face. "D'you think you can get him to lay off of the 'come back home' speeches?" Zaira's expression turned even more bland.

"Willona . . . your father will never, ever do two things in his lifetime. Deny me something I want, or let you go completely. You will always be his baby girl, no matter how old you get, no matter where your life might take you. He's never going to stop trying to bring you back home where he knows you're safe. I'm afraid it's just something you're going to have to get used to, pumpkin." Zaira glanced to the side, then blanched. "Ah, I'm almost late for my manicurist appointment. Kisses and hugs, sweetheart! I'll see you soon!"

Willie murmured her own goodbye a moment before the terminal shut off, the connection severed. The pilot slumped a little, sighing heavily, as her mother's last words certainly hadn't boded well.

There was a moment of silence, and then, ". . . lambikins?"

Willie turned and gave a smirking Miller a narrow-eyed stare. "Ever repeat that again and I'll scratch your eyes out, I swear to God."

[Cassiopeia Reyes-Hart]

Cassi moved down the hall of the Plunder in her typically energetic stride, looking more light-hearted than she had in a good while. The curvy teen was dressed in one of her more sedate sun-dresses--white with a bright paint-splatter print in a rainbow of colors--her blond hair falling loose down to her thighs and silver eyes dancing. Jolly Roger, tucked under one of her arms, was wearing a white bandanna around his neck to match her.

The elf-girl pranced into the mess hall, then brightened at the sight of her boyfriend sitting inside, already waiting for her. He grinned at her as she entered.

"Hey Beau!" she called in a sing-song tone, skipping up to him and then plopping herself down beside him on the bench. Beau caught her to his chest with a chuckle.

"Hey babe," he murmured, arms curling around her waist and leaning in to kiss and nuzzle her neck.

Cassi forced herself to sit still for it, sighing and smiling and nuzzling him back. Despite the small voice in the back of her mind that continued to shrink away from the idea of intimacy with her auburn-haired boyfriend. The one that was crying out for and desperately missing the man she couldn't let herself want anymore. Cassi hadn't seen or spoken to Morgan in over a week. Nine blissful, heart-rending days and counting.

"So what's for lunch?" she questioned then in an attempt to take her mind off of dwelling where it shouldn't, absently cuddling Roger to her front and Beau at her back.

"Mystery Stew," was the auburn-haired gunman's laughing reply. Cassi made a face, then laughed with him.

Neither teen ever noticed the dark-skinned man sitting near the back of the room, his own food sitting untouched in front of him, expression arrested somewhere between hopeful relief and ravaged jealousy.

[T.K.]

T.K. had left Medical as soon as he could get the Doc to release him. He was only singed a little after all, not crippled. Still, she managed to force him to swear that he wouldn't do more than light work until said he could take his arm out of the sling.

He grumbled about it the entire way to his quarters, where he'd planned to grab a fresh uniform before going to Engineering and catching up on the backlog of paperwork.

As soon as he opened the door, he was quite literally slammed into the wall behind him, as Shiyounin and her PHI slammed into him. The breath was momentarily knocked out of him, not to mention the pain it caused to his still healing skin. He looked down at her, as he felt her clutch onto his shirt, and it took him a moment to realize she was sobbing.

As he gingerly eased himself back to a standing position, she looked up at him with tear filled eyes.

“You stupid stupid stupid man! Y-you could have been killed by that crazy robot.”

She broke off into sobbing again, giving him enough time to get inside his quarters. Not really knowing what to do, he made his way over to the bed. He sat down as carefully as he could, propping himself up against the wall.

Several minutes later, it was quite clear she wasn't going to stop any time soon. Sighing, T.K. made himself comfortable since it was obvious he wasn't going anywhere for a while.

So much for catching up on work.

[T.K.]

Mother Hen Syndrome had to be contagious. There was no other explanation that T.K. could think of to explain the day's bizarre events.

He'd eventually gotten Shiyounin calmed down enough for him to take a quick shower, and change into clean clothes. Mostly with promises that he wouldn't 'Fight with obviously fractured A.I.'s with unbalanced Emotional Controls in possession of deadly State-of-the-Art Assassin Bodies'. At least not in the near future. Though, honestly, where Shiyounin thought another Android was going to pop up from, he had no clue.

As soon as he entered Engineering, Angela had rushed over, offering to help him with anything he needed. As it was, he already had Shiyounin hovering over his shoulder, making sure he didn't hurt himself. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he'd simply put up with both of them hovering around him as he tried to file away the backlog of work orders, and parts requisitions for the next time they hit port.

Then then Ryan had shown up for his shift.

More than once during the day, T.K. had eyed Shinigami hanging on the racks next to his desk, wondering how effective he'd be, swinging it with his left hand, instead of his normal right.

[Morgan Halcyon]

There were many reasons why Morgan Halcyon had not been sleeping well.

Loud noises and screeching echoed through his comm late at night, usually only moments after he had fallen into a deep sleep. The vending machines refused to work for him, and when they did, his coffee was always cold dregs. And the nice, relaxing hot showers he took always ended in a freezing cold deluge.

But not being with Cassi was keeping him awake the most by far.

Staring at her, like he was doing now, jealousy welling deep in his heart, that was the hardest for him.

Especially since he could tell that she was not happy. if she had been happy with him, if she had been willing to do to Beau what she had done so willingly to Morgan, then maybe it would have been less hard.

But time apart was doing nothing. He ached for her as much as he had the first day they had screwed in the gym. And, even though she was hiding it, Morgan could tell that she was feeling the exact same way.

Absence, as well as abstinence, really did make the heart grow fonder.

[Cassiopeia Reyes-Hart]

Cassi bit her lip a little a few days later, hovering on the edge of the gym.

This is such a dumb idea. So what if he said he wanted to take you. That was before. Things have changed substantially since then. I can totally sneak off the ship and be back on before him or anyone else knows what's going on.

Despite the pep-talk, Cassiopeia was still standing in the doorway of the gym room debating on whether or not she should step inside and ask Morgan to escort her to the black-market clinic or if she should just go alone like she had before. The dose she had gotten that other time would be wearing off in about a week or so, and who knew when they would come back this way again. While Cassi had no intentions of having sex with Morgan ever again, she was bound and determined to eventually work herself up to showing Beau the same level of love and attention that she had the First Mate.

Just as soon as she figured out how to feasibly explain away the fact that she wasn't a virgin anymore, and that he'd be bound to notice the difference, as the gunman himself was not one either.

However, the same applied to her boyfriend as did the older man. She wasn't going to be taking the risk of ending up pregnant at seventeen. So to insure that it didn't happen, she needed some form of birth control. Of which there was no way in hell she was going to ask her overprotective, faintly psychotic sister for. So that left the black market clinic on the Cove. Which she had been expressly forbidden to go to on her own. Normally that wouldn't have mattered so much, but Cassi didn't want to run the risk of infection or disease either. She grimaced in distaste, just remembering the strange mystery needle she'd been injected with last time, as well as the fact that the guy giving the shot hadn't bothered with anything even remotely resembling sterilization. She was obviously not intimidating enough to encourage a different behavior in the little weasel herself.

But Morgan definitely was.

Cassi debated with herself for another solid minute before she finally took a deep, bracing breath and entered the gym fully. Morgan tensed and paused in his shadow-boxing immediately, turning to her. His dark face was somewhat carefully stoic, though his dark eyes seemed wary. And sad.

Cassi steeled herself against it with an iron determination.

"Morgan, I need to go to that clinic again," she started out in somewhat of a rush. He blinked at her in surprise. Cassi wrung her hands a little. "I mean, the . . . the birth control," she continued, tone going a little softer even though they were alone in the somewhat spacious room. Her cheeks colored a little anyhow. "The other one's going to wear off soon, and I don't know when we'll be back out this way again."

Morgan fidgeted a little himself, then in a somewhat pained and also--strangely enough--heavily regretful tone he heaved, "Cassi, luv, we talked about this. Ye know we can't--,"

Cassi scowled, somewhat annoyed at his assumption. And the flare of guilt that stirred in her chest, for no good reason at all. "I never said I was getting it for you."

Morgan jerked a little at that, eyes rounding with surprise. And then he winced somewhat painfully, his stare falling away. Undeniably guilty and perhaps a little sad. And maybe even a small hint of anger as well.

Cassiopeia wrung her hands again, torn between anger and guilt herself. She hated making anyone feel bad. The fact that it was Morgan was nearly unbearable. She tried to remind herself to be strong. "Look, I'm sorry, I just . . . You said you wanted to take me," she finally blurted then, somewhat hurriedly. Desperate. "If you don't want to anymore, that's fine, I just thought I should ask first--,"

"Nay," he cut in then, expression back to being bland and emotionless, dark eyes hard with determination. "I don't want ye in that cesspit alone. I said I'd take ye, and I meant it."

It was Cassi's turn to look away then, unnerved a little by his blank stare. "O-okay," she agreed softly. The teen twisted her fingers into the hem of her knee-length green, strapless sun-dress. "How . . . um, how're we gonna do this, then?"

Morgan sighed, then, "Give me an hour," he pronounced, tone brisk and no-nonsense. "Come to Josetta's quarters and ask her for permission to go to the Cove Market. I'll make certain no one else is available to escort you but me."

Cassi blinked a little, surprised. "Are you sure?" she questioned. "I mean . . . won't Jo get suspicious?" Morgan sneered a little.

"Suspicious of what? A teenage girl wantin' to go shoppin'? Or the fact that good old Morgan is willing to take one for the team, just like always?" he finished somewhat bitterly. Cassi glanced away again, uncomfortable. After a moment Morgan sighed again. "Don't worry, luv," he murmured then, and the blonde shivered a little at the way his voice got rough and deep. Just like it always did when he was being protective and compassionate.

Just like it did when he made love to her.

Cassi took a deep breath, then straightened and nodded. "Right. Okay. One hour, then. I'll see you there."

Then she turned on her heel and left, forcing herself not to look back.

~~*~~

Exactly one hour later Cassiopeia pressed the hailing button to Josetta's quarters. A moment later the door slid open, revealing her mother sitting behind her desk. And, as promised, Morgan stood slightly off to the side. The two looked rather comfortable in each others' company, for once, not the tense, edgy uncomfortableness that she had witnessed in the past.

Cassi did her best to give Jo one of her usual smiles. It had become so hard to maintain eye-contact, now. What with the amount of guilt that constantly burned in her belly.

"What can I do for you, Princess," Jo questioned brightly. Cassi sighed.

"I was kinda wondering if I could make a quick trip to the Cove Market," she began, inwardly somewhat appalled at how easily the lie fell from her lips. She was getting far too good at lying for her own peace of mind. "I've outgrown some of my other stuff," she continued. "I was wondering if I could pick up a few more outfits while we're here."

Josetta smirked a little. "No doubt the kind your sister wouldn't approve of, otherwise you would've just asked her." Cassi colored guiltily, though not for the reason Jo was thinking. The redhead just nodded then with a sigh. "I see no problem with it. But I can't let you wander out there alone. I'm sure Beau would be happy to take you."

Morgan suddenly cleared his throat a little. "Mr. Altair is busy with T.K. and his monthly inspections. I believe he was drafted into the emergency engineering crew." Jo winced.

"Ouch. Poor kid. Well then, I can commandeer Dane--,"

"No good," Morgan interrupted again, earning a surprised glance from his wife. The black man was a wall of bland-faced confidence. Not even a twitch gave him away. "Merak's doing repairs and upgrades on Elsa. And ye know how he gets when he's upgrading."

Josetta made a face, nodding. "Well is there anyone on a Boarding crew not occupied?" Morgan shook his head. Jo sighed a little, then turned back to Cassi with an apologetic look. "Well, Princess, I can't let you out into the Cove alone without someone who could protect you."

Cassiopeia didn't have any more of a chance than to blink a little before Morgan suddenly sighed heavily. As if he were being set upon. "I'll take her, Jo."

Rather than scowl or grow suspicious, the redheaded Pirate Captain suddenly shot the First Mate a broad, Cheshire grin. As if he had just fallen right into her trap.

"I knew you would see things my way, honeybear," she purred. Morgan just sighed again at that, rolling his eyes a little but giving nothing else away. Afraid of blurting something out, Cassi just kept her mouth shut.

Moments later Morgan was escorting her off of the Plunder and out into the Cove. Since it would've been suspicious otherwise, Cassi wore the same dress she had earlier, atypically barefoot, without her sword. She felt a little naked without it, now, though with the powerful Morgan loping along beside her she didn't feel nearly as badly as she would have otherwise.

The duo moved through the crowded streets and pathways, silent for a time. The blonde teen bit her lip a little after a few moments, however, and she realized the amount of people casting her and--more importantly--the much more known and recognizable Morgan second, third and even fourth glances. Especially as he was dressed as he always was; in his ink-black uniform and jacket, perfectly pressed without a seam out of place. Cassi fidgeted a little as they neared the clinic.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" she hissed after a moment, earning her a glance. Cassi's eyes darted around them in little-hidden apprehension. "You're really famous. Won't people start talking about how Morgan Halcyon walked some blonde teenager into a birth-control clinic?"

A hard-edged smile suddenly spread across his face at that, one whose humor never quite lit his dark, steely eyes. "You're thinkin' about this all wrong, luv. Nobody saw us today." Cassi opened her mouth to protest, but he turned to her and shook his head. "This is a station of thieves, cutthroats and murderers. All of which know that I probably could--and would--kill them if they went yappin' their jaws in a way that I took offense to. Nobody saw us."

Cassi glanced around them again, and suddenly took note of the fact that--while they did garner more than one curious second-glance--after they got their fill of the oddity everyone made it a point to suddenly become much more absorbed in something else. Until it seemed as though everyone was purposefully not looking at them.

The teen snorted a little to herself then, but decided to take the good fortune where she could get it.

Morgan walked her into the clinic this time and the various prostitutes waiting within gave about the same reaction as the others outside. More than one of them continued to cast hungry stares in Morgan's direction, but Cassi did her ultimate best to ignore that. It wasn't any of her business if a couple of dock-whores wanted to leer at him like a piece of meat. Everyone else did. She should be well and used to it by now.

Before long, the weasel man suddenly appeared from the back room. And froze in surprise at the sight of the tall, very intimidating Morgan standing beside her.

"Ah . . . C-c'mon then," he stuttered, motioning for her to follow. Cassi did so.

Morgan wasn't two steps behind her, much to the psudo-doctor's chagrin. After they entered the smaller room and Cassi hopped up onto the table, the other man went to reach for the same set up he had before. The large black man standing to the side of the door cleared his throat, however, halting him.

"Are you sure ye don't have a fresh needle?" he questioned, tone deceptively soft, before reaching up to idly begin cracking the knuckles of his massive fists. The other guy visibly flinched with each pop. As if imagining the sound belonging to his own ribs being snapped as easily. "Or some alcohol to sterilize her first? I'd hate to see my girl get sick."

Cassi's eyes widened a little at the possessive, and flew to his, but Morgan was staring directly into the face of the other guy. Her brows furrowed. What in the heck had that meant, 'his girl?' Most likely he was just putting on a show for the creepazoid's benefit. Still . . . hearing him say it had all sorts of uncomfortable effects on her insides.

"Ah, I-I-I think I . . . I probably have something," the other guy stammered, nearly falling over himself to get to the cupboards. Where he tossed them open and revealed a full stock of medical supplies, causing Cassi to scowl in annoyance. Morgan did too.

"I'm also of the mind to think that that emerald she gave ye more than pays for this dose," the black man continued blandly.

The other guy didn't even bother arguing, just nodded jerkily. "O-of course. Sure. You're absolutely right."

Cassi was forced to pull her skirt up to her ribs to expose her hip for the injection, revealing the matching green panties she wore. Something she could tell that Morgan wasn't exactly comfortable with. Though whether it was seeing them himself or the fact that the doctor guy was getting an eyeful of them too, the teen couldn't be exactly sure. The now-completely-freaked guy swabbed her down with a somewhat overly-generous amount of sterilizing alcohol, but in the end Cassi finally had to snatch the needle from him and inject herself--as he was shaking far too badly to even hold the syringe straight.

A wince and a moment later, it was all done. Cassi dropped her skirt back down and tossed the syringe into the garbage. "Don't even think about using that on someone else," she pronounced sternly, to which he shook his head vigorously. Completely disgusted, Cassi finally just turned on her heel and stalked out. Morgan followed silently behind.

They were well on their way back to the Plunder when Cassi noticed the fact that Morgan was more tense and cross than usual. At first she thought it might be residual annoyance from that clinic guy, but the farther they walked, the less that seemed to hold up. Finally, she caught him glaring off to the side. Cassi glanced in that direction herself, and blinked a little in surprise when she noticed that they had--not a gaggle of female admirers--but a gaggle of male ones. All wolf-whistling and cat-calling amongst themselves. And staring at her.

Cassiopeia was a little flabbergasted at first. She wasn't used to that kind of attention, after all. The teen had been kept rather sheltered--first on Mars and then on the Plunder--and she had only ever really liked Morgan, and then Beau. Cassi had never paid much attention to any other men, or how they reacted to her.

At the moment a good portion of them were staring at her like all those women frequently stared at Morgan. As if they'd like nothing more than the chance to show her a good time. All night long.

And apparently Morgan was taking extreme exception to it.

Of which only seemed to annoy her. It wasn't his place to get upset at stuff like that, after all. He'd made it quite clear he wanted no part of that. Cassi found herself shooting him a somewhat petulant glare.

"What's your problem?" she demanded. Morgan growled a little under his breath.

"These bloody bastards need to put their eyes back in their damned skulls."

Cassi rolled her eyes a little. "I don't see why it would matter to you if they stared at me or not. It shouldn't matter to you if I skipped off to take every one of 'em up on their offers either," she continued somewhat bitterly. That got her a sharp scowl, his steps suddenly faltering. Cassi was forced to do the same, coloring a little and refusing to meet his stare afterward.

Therefore she was somewhat taken by surprise when he suddenly reached out and curled his hand around her upper arm and then tugged her somewhat unceremoniously into a small alleyway.

"What are you--cut it out! Let me go, Morgan!" she yelped, rather ineffectually, as the First Mate continued to pull her deeper into the alcove until they were out of sight from the masses. Only then did he let her go, only to whirl back to her with a strangely fierce, somewhat raw expression on his face.

"Bloody fuckin' hell, Cass, I never said I didn't care for ye!"

Cassi just stared up at him for a moment, somewhat speechless with disbelief, before she let out a rude snort. Her expression was bitter, her silver eyes steeped with sad regret.

"Yah, that's the problem, Morgan. You never said anything at all." A heavy silence fell between them at that until Cassi sighed, glancing away with immeasurable hurt. "Except 'I'm sorry. That'll never happen again. You're too young and stupid to know what love is. Apparently all you're good for is sucking my--'"

"I never bloody said that," he growled, cutting her off. "Yer not bein' fair, Cassi." Fearless, the teen merely scoffed, turning on her heel.

"Yah, well, life's not very fair, I'm discovering. Get used to it, Morg. I am."

She didn't get two steps before she was suddenly weightless. Cassi let out another yelp of surprise, though it cut off again as she was suddenly pushed back against the permacrete wall to one side. Morgan had her lifted up off the ground, his large hands curled around her curvy hips. Her legs--traitorous things that they were--almost instinctively curled around his waist.

Cassi gasped, staring at him with an expression somewhat likened to a wounded animal as he pressed closer. Lighting her whole body with that fire she had been trying so hard to fight.

"Yer too bloody young to be so cynical," he growled low, soft. Cassi tried to maintain her anger, pushing somewhat ineffectually at his broad chest.

"Yah, well, apparently I'm too young for a lot of things. Put me down, Morgan."

"Why?" he shot back, stubborn challenge in his tone now. "Afraid ye'll like it? Afraid ye'll moan for me, just like ye did before?" Cassi just glared, for the moment not quite sure what she should do. The teen let out a shuddering moan however when Morgan suddenly bent, nuzzling one of her long ears. "Ye don't moan for him like ye do me," he suddenly growled, almost to himself, the possessiveness in his tone unmistakable.

Guilt and desperate need were tearing at her in equal measure. "Morgan, please!" she yelped, yet her fingers had started tightening into fists into the material of his jacket. Holding him in place as he continued to nibble at her neck and ears.

The dark-featured First Mate lifted up enough to stare her in the eye. His own fierce with determination and finality. "Tell me ye don't want me, Cassi. Tell me ye don't want this and I'll let ye go for good."

Cassi opened her mouth . . . but nothing came out of it. She hesitated for a moment, silver eyes searching his. Trying so hard to remember all the reasons why this was such a horrible, terrible idea. But she couldn't. Not for the life of her. Slowly, her mouth closed again. Her legs tightened around his waist.

Morgan bent then without another word, his tongue thrusting past her lips with a soft groan. One she readily answered.

[Alexandria Wright]

"He's my son?" Alex said in a stunned voice, looking at Christian first and then to the doctor and her daughter.

"Technically, yes. I believe you and your husband's genetic material were both used in the birth of Christian. Biologically, yes, he is your son." Dr. Reyes said calmly.

Jo's expression was neutral, but calculating. She was watching the both of them carefully. To an outside observer, maybe she would look coldly amused by this whole situation, but Alex could read her daughter's face better than anyone. She was both concerned and taking note of every emotion that was going through Christian and Alex herself.

There were, in truth, many emotions rushing through Alexandria at the moment. In a way, she felt just a little bit violated, that UE would make a child of hers. In another, she felt excited and happy by this news, for reasons she could not quite articulate. She had already felt like a mother in her own way to Christian, if not much more than a teacher. Now, she learned she actually was his mother.

And the third was very worried about how he was going to take all this.

Alex turned to the stunned mage child and said, "I understand if this changes nothing for you, but I wanted you to know--we're family now. And I will be your family for you as much as you want, in any capacity you need me to be. You don't have to be alone, Christian."

[Christian Monroe]

For a long moment, Christian was unable to do anything more than gape at the doctor. A hundred different emotions were chasing themselves around his head. Though he hated it, a long-ago painful memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.

A small, fur-covered boy--perhaps no older than four or five--cowered in the corner of his utilitarian cell. His hair was a wild, unkempt tangle around his face, somewhat hiding his as-yet oversized, pointed ears. The boy curled in on himself, his green-gold cat-like eyes screwed tight, angrily trying to fight against the tears that kept leaking out of them. Holding back the ragged sobs that tried to wrack his frame only through sheer force of will.

They had beaten him badly this time. His trainers. He hadn't shot the target dead center like they'd wanted, so they'd beaten him with the rifle until he blacked out. Now his whole body hurt. It hurt to move. It hurt to sit still. It hurt to breathe even. The small lion-like boy hiccuped a little with his misery and fury, his clawed fingers tightening around his legs until the tiny black nails pierced the material of his black fatigues.

"Stop that blubbering, soldier," someone suddenly barked, tone cold and stern.

Little Christian slowly lifted his head from his knees, golden eyes narrowed to thin slits of rage despite the tears still streaming from them, his lips curled back to reveal the small fangs inside his mouth. A low growl rolled out of his small chest, not very intimidating in it's adolescent tenor, but it conveyed his displeasure all the same.

"You'll be sorry," he snarled. "One day my momma and papa are gonna come save me," he insisted fiercely. Naively. "And they'll make you sorry for hurting me!"

At that, his guard tipped his head back and roared with cruel laughter. "Are you kidding me, you little freak? You don't have any parents. You were born in a fucking tube. No one's going to come save you, runt. No one cares about you. You're just a tool of the government. A weapon. No one loves you. No one ever will."

Back in reality, Christian slowly clenched his fists until his nails started biting into the flesh of his palms. Inside of him that small, fragile little boy who had been trying to hold out desperately for the hope that he might one day find that he did have a real mother and father who would love him slowly curled up, gave in and died. He really was a genetic experiment. A 'test tube baby.' Nothing more than a tool to be used and discarded.

And what's worse! Created from the damned originators of the very organization that had worked so diligently to beat him into the weapon they wanted him to become. Christian stared for a long while into Alexandria's cat-green eyes, chest heaving a little with his lost emotion. His sensitive nostrils could detect that faint trace that he hadn't--or wouldn't--picked up before. The trace that matched his own scent. The one that proved the doctor's word's so horribly true.

"I don't have a family," he finally managed, tone hoarse. Broken. A low snarl let loose out of his chest, belying the moisture suddenly in his gold-green eyes before the eighteen year old spun on his heel and left the Captain's quarters as quickly as he could. Not wanting them to witness his weakness.

Not wanting to face the painful truth anymore.