Disclaimer: I don't own Andromeda, Tribune does!

Author's Note: I don't know where my grammar got off to in this part, so sorry if anything's off! Oh, and the stuff between the asteriks is a flashback. Please R&R!



Paradise

Chapter Five: The British Butler Bot



She wasn't sure whether she wanted to shoot herself, run screaming from the room, or cry and beg Dylan's forgiveness and tell him never to leave like that again, and Beka Valentine hated herself for it. As it was, she paced nervously in front of the Obs. Deck windown, pausing every once in a while to curse Harper in several different languages.

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"Are you crazy? I told you, Seamus, I do not want to see him!" She had been so angry at him for even suggesting it.

He had used that persistent, whiny, "I'm too small and cute for you to say no" voice. "C'mon, Bek, you have to see him! Just one dinner on Obs. Deck, that's it!"

"No!"

"I'll overhaul the Maru!"

That had taken her by surprise. "Really."

"Yeah! Pay for it myself!"

This had been a little bit too suspicious for Beka. "Harper...why?"

And for a moment, it wasn't Harper that Beka was talking to; it was someone older, and wiser. It was like Rev Bem trapped in the body of one freakin' genius. "Because, Beka, I want you to have something good. Dylan is good, he's good for you; he won't hurt you like Bobby did and you'll be happy. I want you to be happy."

"Seamus..." was all Beka could say.

"Please, Bek, I know how you feel about him and you're scared and everything and I know you don't know what you want with him, but don't let him get away, Beka. He loves you."

"I know," Beka whispered.

"Will you go? Please, Beka?"

She had nodded, half-reluctant and half-eager.

And then he was back to being Harper again, grinning his trademark ladies' man grin and saying, "You just trust in the Harper, baby, and be in Obs. Deck in two hours, dressed to kill!"

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She was only dressed to mildly maim, in tight black pants and a high-necked sleeveless shirt, despite Trance's suggestion of at least a skirt. Beka kept pacing, not liking the table set for two in the middle of the room, or the soft candlelight, or the music playing that Harper apparently thought was romantic. And the table cloth was pink. Pink!

"Harper, you really overdid yourself," Beka muttered.

"I'd have to agree." She didn't have to look towards the door to know that it was Dylan. She turned anyway, raising an eyebrow when she saw his dress attire.

"That looks pretty damn uncomfortable, Captian Terrific," she quipped.

"Well, I see you chose comfort over style," he retorted.

"Hey, do you know how tight these pants are?" she shot back as they both laughed. Back to being friends for the moment. She could handle that. It didn't squelch the desire to run over to him and touch him and make sure he was really alive, really there on Obs. Deck, but the need was dampened.

He pulled out her chair for her like a real gentleman, and his hand rested gently on her bare shoulder as she sat down. She hate herself for tensing up and how quickly he took his hand away. He sat down across from her; poured them both wine. Neither of them looked at each other, and they spent an uncomfortable few minutes of silence.

Until they broke it by laughing at the Maria 'bot dressed like a butler.

"That has got to be Harper!" Beka gasped out between gales of laughter.

"What can I get you, my good lady and gentleman?" the drone asked in a completely fake British accent.

"I'm going to have to speak to him about this!" Dylan said, laughing harder.

But it served to break the ice between them, or at least thin it, and they talked about safely comfortable topics throughout the elegant dinner.

Then dinner was over, and dessert and coffee were over, and they were lead by the british butler bot to the vacant rec room, where they found popcorn and a movie. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, even though Beka knew Dylan would rather have them close together.

She had to give him credit, though. He waited until half the movie was over before saying, "Beka, we need to talk."

To Be Continued...(I promise!)