By Erin_Cale
Disclaimer: DROM isn't mine.
Rating: PG-13 for use of the word "crap" a few times and implied stuff.
Author's Notes: First of all, the reasons this is such a horrid fic are that I have had no beta look this over and... well, the rest is explained by the narrator. Anyway, this is a response to a doxymom challenge that had to include the following:
*chocolate pudding
*Harper setting something on fire.
*an ion storm
*Rommie's internal sprinklers going off so that everyone slips & slides around.
*Tyr saying, "Here, take my underwear, if you must."
*Beka laughing maniacally.
*Dylan singing, "On the Good Ship Lollipop." (It's a sweeet trip to the candy shop where bon bons plaaaaayy!!!) Use only as much of the song as you want.
It’s a very foggy night. Somebody in a black trench coat and matching hat enters onto the scene mystery movie style- a silhouetted figure standing under a dim streetlight. The only feature that can be seen of this stranger is a lock of red hair-the color chosen by the author, most likely, for the effect it has against the backdrop of black.
“Hello. I am to be your narrator this evening,” she says in a slick-as-oil voice. “What I have for your reading pleasure now is a tale of mystery, lunacy, and control.” Suddenly the façade drops. Beka Valentine takes off her hat and turns her hair back to its normal shade. “Why did I have to say it like that?” She shouts up at the streetlight. “It makes the whole thing sound like some dime store romance novel that doesn't have the plot God gave the jac-.”
---We are trying to keep this rated PG-13, Beka.---
“What? One f
---Beka.---
swear is going to make this d
---Beka!---
thing go from PG-13 to f
---BEKA!---
R? I don’t f
---*sigh*---
think so," Beka finishes with a glare, knowing that censorship has once again won the day.
---First of all, this is my story, so you follow my rules. Got it? Second, it’s fanfic. It has no monetary value. Third, I am a Dylan/Beka ‘shipper, so of course there’s going to be romance in it. To invoke an extremely-overused phrase- Duh!---
“I can’t do this anymore. I never saw anything about this crap in my acting contract with The Powers That Be.”
---Just read the cue cards.---
Beka adopts a confrontational stance: hands crossed in front of her and a dangerous light in her eyes. “Fine.” In a monotone, she continues, “This is the type of story that authors like Erin_Cale only write when they have had little sleep all week, too much stress in their lives and way too much sugar. That said, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Beka slowly retreats back into the fog. Her discarded hat is left on the mist-covered ground.
---Beka? I think you forgot something.---
The pilot storms back, picks up her hat, and stomps back into the fog. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mutters under her breath. “Cheap b-”
---You wouldn't want Trance to start shrieking in your ear for no discernible reason, now would you?---
Beka throws up her hands in disgust. “Anyway, on with the story.”
---That’s a good little character.---
“Ah, shut up.”
***
“Captain, we appear to be approaching some type of ion storm,” Andromeda reported.
“Ooh. Flashing lights!” exclaimed Trance.
Dylan and Rommie looked back at their purple friend.
“Sorry. Flashy thingys make me happy.”
“Uh huh,” Dylan muttered. “I couldn’t tell.”
Trance grinned at him.
“Andromeda, do you think the storm is going to be problem?”
“No. The ride may be a little turbulent, but my defenses should absorb most of the energy.”
“Good. Then we’ll just pass right on through-”
“I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts, deedle-dee-dee, there they ar-”
“Harper, I was talking.”
“Sorry.”
“Now, where was I on that stupid cue card? Blah-blah, ion storm, blah-blah, escort them to isolation… oops, skipped down too far-”
“Did I hear you say ‘stripped down too far?’” Beka asked hopefully from the pilot’s console.
“No! I said, ‘skipped down too far.’ With a ‘k’.”
Beka’s lower lip started to tremble. “Darn.”
“Later, Beka. We’re not to that part of the fic yet.”
“There’s a ‘that part of the fic?’”
Dylan sighed. “Yes. Haven’t you read the script?”
“No. I’m just winging it.”
“Ah.” Dylan sighed and turned back to his cue cards. “As I was saying: ‘Good. Then we’ll just pass right on-”
“I like shiny things and I cannot lie-”
Dylan looked up to see his engineer and his medic dancing around the room at an absurd pace.
“Harper! Trance! That’s it! Beka, you have Command. I’m going to escort them down to isolation. Something’s very wrong with them and I really don’t want to deal with them right now.”
“Okey-dokey, captain!” Beka said, snapping a salute to him.
“Oh crap. Tyr, meet me in the brig.”
***
“I don’t see any reason why he put me in the brig with you, Harper. I’m obviously not being affected by whatever it is that you’re being affected by.”
“Sure, Tyr. You just normally walk around in your underwear?”
The Nietzchean looked down at his attire. “Uh…”
“That’s what I thought. It’s better for us all if we just stay here until this thing wears off.”
Tyr made no comment.
“Besides, I don’t see why Beka and Trance get to have their own separate cells anyway when we have to be stuck together.”
Tyr’s eyes started to fill up with tears. Finally, he cried, “I just wanted us to bond.”
“Say huh-what-who-why-heh?”
“I just wanted us to be good friends, Harper.”
“Uh huh. HELP!!! Please, somebody HELP ME!!”
All of a sudden, the food replicator on the far side of the room came to life, depositing a big bowl of chocolate pudding with two spoons. From the other side of the door, they heard Rommie say, “That’s to keep you quiet until we figure out what’s happening to you.”
"Rommie!” Harper rushed to the door. “Please help me, Rommie. Tyr wants to bond with me!”
He heard a fit of giggles from the other side, then a heavy thud as Rommie collapsed to the floor, holding her sides in a very human manner. “Harper…” she managed to choke out between giggles, “I… feel… so sorry… for you.”
“That helps a lot. Thanks.”
***
Dylan was walking back down the hallway, considering his options. He didn’t know what to do. He had locked up four of his crew in the brig and he was probably infected by whatever was affecting his crew. Too much negative stuff going on right now- he had to think of something positive.
“On the Good Ship Lollipop-” Dylan’s eyes widened. “I did not just sing that.”
“Captain,” came Andromeda’s voice, “I suggest that you-”
“I know, Andromeda, I know.” Dylan turned around and headed back to the brig. Once inside, he picked out a cell, walked into it, and closed the door behind him.
Beka walked up to him and rubbed his shoulders. “So have we reached that part of the fic yet?”
***
Harper had set his shoe on fire. He didn’t even know how he had done it, but he was thinking it was a result of his marvelous telepathic powers.
Now, seeing as how Harper and Tyr were in a room devoid of anything except them, the huge bowl half-filled with chocolate pudding, and the flame-resistant walls, logic would dictate that all Harper would have had to do would be to throw the shoe in the corner and let the fire burn itself out. But, as we all know, logic has no place in a fanfic- especially a challenge response.
“Here,” Tyr said, “Take my underwear if you must.”
Harper automatically looked up from the flames to see Tyr holding out the piece of clothing. “Holy crap!” he exclaimed, suddenly finding his burning foot very interesting. “Next time, Tyr, just let me chew my foot off, okay? Because I am willing to bet there are a couple slash writers reading this who are getting ideas.” However, the perky blond engineer took the underwear and started to beat his flaming foot with it. Once it was out, he threw the underwear back to the Nietzchean as quickly and accurately as his disgusted hands and averted eyes could manage. To be honest, he was lucky that Tyr was a good catch.
Still averting his eyes away from Tyr, Harper felt the first belated drops of water hit his head. Simultaneously, the ship started to rock.
“To all hands: Secure your workstations. We are entering the ion storm,” Andromeda’s voice commanded.
“Everyone except the entire Command staff,” Harper muttered. The ship’s sprinklers activated, sending down a shower of cold water into the cell.
“Don’t worry, Harper! I’ll save you!” Tyr jumped up and tried to access the sprinklers, which were about 10 feet over his head. He jumped again, but this time, he landed the wrong way on the water-soaked floor and his legs flew out from underneath him.
“Uh, Tyr? I don’t think your arm is supposed to bend like that.”
“Really, boy? You truly are a genius,” Tyr muttered in a deadpan voice.
“Wait a minute. You were just sarcastic to me!” Harper exclaimed.
“What is your point?”
“The other Tyr, the nutty Tyr, would never have been sarcastic to me. You’re better!”
Tyr looked down at his arm. “If that’s your word for it.”
“Come to think of it, I think I’m feeling better too!”
“Good for you.”
Suddenly, they heard Beka laughing maniacally in the cell next to theirs, followed a few minutes later by the sound of the sprinklers activating, and an “Oh crap” from Dylan.
“Hey Andromeda? Can we leave now?”
“I believe you can go to the medbay as soon as I do one thing,” she replied.
“What’s that?”
There was silence for a moment, then Trance started to scream. “Water! Shiny! I mean, wet and cold! Rommie, why’d you do that?”
“Okay, now you can go to the medbay.”
The cell doors were released and all of the occupants walked out. That is, Trance, Tyr, and Harper walked out and waited for their captain and x.o. to exit their cell- which they did, about five minutes later. Dylan had a goofy grin on his face and only his uniform jacket half on. Beka bore the same grin but wore the shirt that Dylan would normally have worn under his uniform.
“You guys have fun?” Harper asked with a confused look on his face.
Dylan’s grin receded somewhat, but he kept his hand firmly on Beka’s back. “As much as can be expected, I suppose. Wow, that was some adventure, wasn’t it?”
“Sure. Whatever you say, Boss.”
Harper was still confused. It wasn’t until Dylan and Beka passed by him and he could see Beka’s hand on the high guard captain’s butt that everything seemed to click.
“Holy crap!”
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