Disclaimer: The characters within these stories belong to Gene Roddenberry and Tribune Entertainment. There is no profit made or intended from these stories, and they should be considered as being for entertainment purposes only.
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Warnings:Nothing to do with canon. Nothing I ever write has anything to do with canon.
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Author's Notes: For Mary Ann. Best wishes.
"Dylan, if you do not do something about him, then I shall." Tyr growled it, his frustration easily seen in the tight jaws and tense muscles.
Dylan sighed. They'd had this discussion a hundred times, at least, and he was very tired of it.
"Look, I know Harper can be a little annoying..." The rest of his sentence was drowned out by Tyr's snort.
"That is an extreme understatement."
Ignoring the interruption as best he could, Dylan continued.
"However, he is a very valuable member of this crew and has saved all of our lives, yours included, on more than one occasion. I will not allow you to pummel, mutilate or harm him in any way. Is that understood, Tyr?"
The dark eyes glared, but there was a faint nod. It was a concession, however minute, and Dylan rewarded it.
"However, I don't expect you to put up with an endless round of hassles and petty disturbances, either. He does target you, Tyr, I admit that. Whether that's due to his background or yours, I couldn't say, but the point remains, he has been deliberately antagonizing you for a couple of weeks now. To be honest, your restraint has been noted and appreciated."
Slightly mollified, Tyr relaxed a bit.
"So, I ask again, what do you plan on doing about him?"
"I wish I knew. Traditional forms of punishment wouldn't work with Harper. Either he doesn't care or he cares too much. I can't think of anything to deprive him of that he isn't already deprived of, and putting him in isolation does not work." Dylan recalled the last time they'd tried keeping him confined to quarters. After just two days, the man was bitter, almost overcome with his anxieties. It had not been good and even Tyr had admitted it was too harsh.
"So what recourse do we have? The man is a menace to the sanity of all on board and a risk to his own safety because of it."
"True. Okay, let's think about this from a different angle. Describe his behavior to me."
Tyr immediately launched into a full recitation. "He's petty, childish, annoying, frustrating, ill-mannered, inconsiderate, rude and basically an out of control brat."
Dylan's mouth quirked and he got a mysterious gleam in his eyes. It made Tyr suspicious and he sat even straighter in his chair.
"You're right. That's it exactly. We've been treating him like a man, and he is, chronologically. But not emotionally. Inside he's still frozen in late adolescence, that homeless, hopeless, alone little boy that never had a family, especially not a father."
Tyr's warning bells were clanging loudly and he was already shaking his head in denial.
"Okay, the way I see it, he's got some kind of vendetta against you. You have issues with him. I need the two of you to be able to resolve these issues. We've established that he's a brat, looking for a father figure. What better father figure could he possibly have than you, a Nietzchean, with all your training? And while I wouldn't trust you to not kill Harper under normal circumstances, I trust you absolutely to be a parent. So, I'm giving you free reign, Tyr. Deal with him however you need to, however you would if he were your own child. Congratulations, Tyr. It's a boy."
Dylan, inordinately pleased with himself, gave Tyr a blinding smile, clapped a hand on one thick shoulder and left. Whistling.
Tyr considered killing his captain for a full five seconds, then sighed and went to find his "son".
He debated telling Harper about his arrangement with their leader, but decided it would be best kept a secret. Instead, Tyr gave serious thought to how best to begin. He had an idea, too well trained for fatherhood to not know at least a little where to begin.
Tyr found Harper on the bridge, music loud and annoying, dancing around Becca and generally in her way.
"Harper, a word." The young man rolled his eyes and continued dancing.
"I like orange. It's a good word, doesn't rhyme with anything."
Tyr absorbed this and calmly moved to the controls, killing the music. At Harper's instantaneous and loud objection Tyr said nothing, only waited patiently until the youth was finished whining and then spoke softly and gently.
"No one objects to you playing your music, you have every right to listen to what you want. However, we, too, have a right to not have to listen to it. I suggest you either lower the volume greatly and listen at your own station or use an earjack and listen at whatever volume you prefer."
Harper, Becca and Trance were all staring at Tyr as though he'd suddenly grown two more heads. Harper especially, long used to Tyr's growls and threats, reacted very carefully.
"So, you want me to turn it down or use the earjacks, right?" He asked it slowly, as though wanting to be sure he'd heard correctly.
"I would greatly appreciate you doing either of those, yes." Tyr continued to look at him levelly, face neutral, eyes mild. He'd deliberately relaxed his body language, and now casually turned his attention to something else.
Harper, sensing that no confrontation was forthcoming, moved back to his station. After a few moments, he checked to see that no one was paying attention and put in the earjacks.
Tyr ignored Harper for a few more moments, then made his way off the bridge. As he passed Harper, he placed a gentle hand on the man's neck.
"Thank you, Harper." A hint of a smile and Tyr left, leaving a very confused Harper in his wake.
*****
For the next few weeks, Tyr's gentle campaign of reform continued. The Nietzchean avoided all hostility, speaking to Harper in firm but soft tones. Tyr found small things to praise in Harper's behavior, found appropriate times to place a hand on the younger man's neck or shoulder.
Harper spent the first week waiting for the real Tyr to show up, but he'd begun to relax. Tyr was seeking him out now, and the two of them were spending at least a little time together every day. On the surface, they were working on an overhaul of an alien weapon they'd salvaged, neither man sure how it worked, but wanting to be. In reality, they were talking or simply working in companionable silence.
It had an amazing effect on Harper. The young man was still patently annoying, but not as overwhelmingly so. He'd begun to change his behavior in response to Tyr's praise and quiet scoldings, had begun to gain some measure of peace and security which, in turn, was leading to a stable Harper.
Dylan, still inordinately pleased with himself for his obviously brilliant solution, decided the time had come to field test them. There was a planet they were approaching that seemed ideal. A wealthy repository for natural resources, they could gather some much needed supplies. It was fairly safe, the only danger being from some of the local wildlife and the weather system which was prone to sudden violent if brief storms.
Dylan decided to send Harper and Tyr down. Harper knew what the Andromeda needed, almost better than Andromeda herself did, and Tyr could be counted on to keep Harper from being eaten by any of the larger carnivores. At least, now that he was raising Harper, Dylan could count on it. Before, Tyr was just as likely to have coated the engineer with gravy and tied him to a tree. Tyr might be changing Harper but he was also being changed, whether he realized it or not.
Dylan found Tyr in the landing bay, getting the craft ready for flight.
The men would take one of the small shuttle pods down to the surface, not needing much in the way of cargo room. They were looking for specific minerals and crystals, not large supplies, and the smaller ship only made sense.
"So, all set?"
"Nearly so. Was there something you needed, Captain?"
"No. I just wanted to congratulate you again on the job you've done with Harper. He's come a long way, Tyr."
"Just following orders. You made him my responsibility. I do not like to fail, at anything." Tyr grinned, only a hint of the feral in the strong, sharp teeth.
*****
Seamus Harper wasn't grinning. He'd come to the bay to stow some equipment and he'd been checking the audio equipment as he did so. He'd heard their entire conversation. At first he'd been confused, wondering what they were talking about. Now, Harper was only hurt. Hurt and angry. The realization that the past few weeks had been nothing but a challenge, a task for Tyr, made him feel sick inside. Tyr had become more than just a friend, Harper had begun to feel like a little brother or even, despite their near ages, like a son. It had been a good feeling, warm and secure, and Harper had felt a tiny part of himself healing with each afternoon spent in the Nietzchean's somber yet pleasant company.
Now he felt himself torn, ripped by betrayal. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself before making the final turn toward the bay. He also planned his next actions carefully. If he was Tyr's responsibility and Tyr didn't like to fail, then Harper was about to exact a lovely revenge, on Tyr and Dylan both.
Harper stormed into the bay, ignoring both men and their greetings. Flinging himself into the pilot's chair, he turned cold eyes to Tyr.
"If you're comin' with me, you'd better walk that hair up here, because I am leaving in exactly two minutes and I don't particularly care if you come along or not." Reaching to his pack, Harper pulled out the earjacks, letting the music echo off the walls of the bay.
Tyr was stunned and Dylan felt a niggle of worry but stepped back, letting the door close and the shuttle take off. Mentally, he wished them luck.
*****
In the shuttle, Harper completely ignored Tyr and the big man allowed it, using the time to consider what might be going on and what to do about it.
Once planetside, Harper began to lead the way. A hand on his arm paused him.
"I will need to lead here, Harper. It is not entirely safe."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, let the Nietzchean go first. Fine by me, Tyr. Better these bear-things munch on you than me. We're heading west, about three degrees below horizon. Lead on and try not spray every tree we pass, huh?" It was sarcastic, biting, and a side of Harper that Tyr hadn't seen in quite a while.
However, this was neither the time nor the place to discuss it. They had a job to do and they needed to get it done as quickly as possible. Once back onboard, there would be time to sort this out.
With the route established, Tyr began to lead them through the dense, forest-like vegetation. It was slow going but Tyr, as always, was taking no unnecessary chances. When one of the sudden storms threatened, he found them a cave. The area was full of caves and, after making sure it was deserted, Tyr led them in deeply enough to shelter them from the fierce winds and the lightning flashing all around them.
Tyr looked at Harper. The man-child seemed upset, his features held deep hurt. Figuring this storm would last the usual twenty minutes or so, Tyr spoke.
"Is something wrong, Harper?" The young man made a scoffing sound, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
"Yeah. Me. I'm wrong, I'm an idiot. A fool. Of course, you knew that. You know everything, don't you, Tyr? Tyr Anasazi, the supreme Nietzchean, everybody's favorite alpha. And I played beta just perfectly, didn't I?"
Tyr put the clues together, knowing now what must have happened.
"What did you hear?" The question brought Harper to his feet, sounding like an admission of guilt. Harper yelled, partly to be heard above the rising storm outside, but mostly because he was suddenly furious.
"I heard everything! You and Dylan cooked up some kind of plan to housebreak Harper, and damn you both, it worked. A little pity time with the human, give the outsider a chance to feel like he belongs, and voila! A domesticated Harper. Congratulations, Tyr, you did in a few months what no Nietzchean ever did my whole life growing up under your kind. You got me to trust you. I can't believe I was that stupid, but I was."
There were tears dripping down Harper's face now, and Tyr reached out a hand.
"Don't you touch me! Don't you ever touch me again! I don't need you, I don't need anybody! And it's for damn sure that nobody needs me." The last was ground out around a sob and, in an instant, Harper was running for the mouth of the cave.
Tyr followed but Harper had the light patch and, genetic enhancements or not, Tyr couldn't see in the near total darkness. He had to feel his way, going as fast as he dared.
Once outside Tyr had more light, the dim sun and the lightning letting him glimpse Harper's retreating form. Tyr bolted after him. Lightning was striking all around them and there were still too many predators out in the storm for him to feel safe.
He was almost to Harper when one of those predators made an appearance. Harper came around a rocky overhang and almost ran into the creature seeking shelter there.
It was one of the serquins. Swearing, Tyr pushed even harder the last few yards. Serquins were like bears, large, heavy and with long claws and teeth. They were also notoriously bad tempered.
This one was no exception. Rearing up on its hind legs, the animal let out a warning roar and brought one of its front paws slashing down.
Harper had been frozen with fear, the huge predator like something out of a nightmare. Give him Magog any day, those he understood. This was a raw force of nature, and he was paralyzed as the claws descended toward him.
An instant later he was being knocked out of the way. Tyr, throwing himself between the creature and Harper, gave his own roar as the claws raked his left shoulder blade. Fortunately, he'd been in motion and the blow was only glancing.
Tyr all but threw Harper out of the way, turning his attention to the animal preparing for its second strike.
"Go!" Tyr bellowed it at Harper, but the engineer was still too frightened and horrified at what he was watching to move.
Tyr and the serquin were fighting. Tyr had brains, skill and speed. The serquin had thousands of years of evolution and paws almost a foot across. It was almost enough. Almost, but not quite.
Tyr found a gap between the head and back, and plunged his knife deeply into it, sinking the blade to the hilt. The serquin thrashed wildly, but blood was pouring from the wound in huge fonts, and it didn't take long for the huge body to crumple, shuddering a few times as the life left it.
Tyr, having jumped to the ground when the creature started to fall, now sat, chest heaving, desperately trying to get enough air.
He was covered in blood, his own and the serquin's, he was exhausted from the fight and he was angry at the entire situation.
Harper, coming to himself, rushed to Tyr's side, checking for serious injuries. Tyr grabbed his arm, stood and began marching them both back to the cave.
The original storm had ended while they fought, but now he could see another brewing in the distance.
Tyr said nothing while they walked, needing time and simply not having the air to spare, not quite yet. Harper was also silent, and he didn't fight at Tyr's firm, but gentle grip on his arm. He was too busy thinking about what could have happened, and why.
Once they reached the cave Tyr released Harper, moving to their supplies. He got a fire going, took out dry clothing for them both and a med kit.
"Change your clothes." It was little more than a murmur, but Harper obeyed. When he was finished, Harper picked up the med kit and moved beside Tyr.
The Nietzchean had washed the worst of everything off of him, except for his back, and now Harper took the cloth, saying nothing but washing the blood and grime from the broad muscles.
"Does it need stitches?" Tyr could feel the tracks from the claw wound but couldn't tell how deep the grooves were.
"I don't think so. They're long, but not too deep." Harper applied disinfectant, a healing cream and a bandage, then put the med kit away.
For a long time, the only sound was the fire and the ever approaching storm outside.
"I'm sorry you got hurt." Harper's voice barely carried the narrow width of the cave, but Tyr heard him.
"I could say the same to you." This brought the blonde head up and he saw the same look he'd seen on Tyr's face so many times in the past few weeks. Compassion, understanding and...affection. It made no sense, there was no need for pretense any longer.
"Harper, I never intended my actions to cause you harm. True, I went to Dylan for help in dealing with you. I was honestly concerned that I might do you grave harm. He suggested that perhaps what you needed, what we needed from each other, was a different perspective. He was right. When I began to think of you from a parental point of view, you ceased to be an annoyance. In fact, though it is completely irrelevant to me as a Nietzchean, I will tell you plainly that I have grown genuinely fond of you, Harper. When you are not being an ill-mannered brat, I find your company most pleasant. And that is the real reason I have continued to come by your quarters, why we continue to work together on the weapon system, why I smile at you. Yes, Dylan has made you and your behavior my responsibility. But ask me, Seamus Harper, even after all this, if it is an unwelcome one, or one I would give up lightly."
Harper sniffled loudly, the words holding out such promise.
"I wish I could believe that, Tyr. I want to believe that so bad."
Tyr gave a low, brief chuckle of amusement.
"Did I not just risk my life to save yours? It was a perfect set-up, had I wished to be rid of you. The serquin would have ripped you to shreds in moments and I could have faced Dylan Hunt with your mangled form and pleaded an accident. He would have had to accept it, knew it was one of the risks of the mission and I could have said, quite honestly, that I tried to save you. Had I been just a little further behind, I would have been too late, despite my best efforts. And it took my best effort, Harper, to save you."
Tyr paused, looking at the huddled form across from him, arms wrapped around bony knees, head bowed, afraid to look up.
"Harper, you know my kind. You know me. I am a Nietzchean. I am arrogant, vain, manipulative and I do not hesitate to ensure victory for myself. But, have you ever heard it said, or known of, a Nietzchean that did not love its child?" The last was said with careful emphasis and brought Harper's head slowly up.
Tear-filled eyes raised to sincere brown ones and Harper knew, suddenly knew, that Tyr was telling him the truth. This wasn't for gain or victory. Tyr still cared for him, still felt the same parental bond Harper had felt himself.
When Tyr held his arms out in open invitation, Harper flung himself into them. He let the strong arms wrap around him tightly, let the broad chest hold his head, let the hands soothe him.
"I'm sorry, Tyr, I'm sorry..."
"Shhh. Hush, little one. All is well. I will make it so."
Harper gave in to the strength surrounding him and subsided, feeling more comfort than he had ever known anywhere, from anyone. When he'd calmed, he eased back, looking up into Tyr's warm brown eyes.
"So, you're like volunteering to be my dad, now, right?"
"I am offering to give you the guidance, care and discipline that you obviously need and have been denied. I am offering you my guardianship. And my affection, for what it is worth."
"It's worth a lot." Harper gave him a crooked grin, and Tyr used one of the cleaning cloths to tenderly wash the tear-streaked face.
"Harper, I am glad we have found peace again. But you must understand, I have a duty and an obligation to you and, as such, if you are ready, it is time we discuss what happened earlier."
Harper swallowed hard, feeling a touch of fear settle in his stomach. Tyr had told him once, in no uncertain terms, what would happen if he ever endangered his life foolishly.
"Yeah, I kinda figured we'd get to that. Okay, I went off, but I was upset!"
"Harper, I am a Nietzchean. What do I say of motivation?"
"That it doesn't matter, though Dylan and a few others disagree with you on that one." Harper saw the eyes harden slightly and bit at his lip before finishing his answer. "You say it's only actions that must be accounted for, not motives."
"Exactly. And what did I say I would do to you, did you ever risk your life needlessly?"
"Awww, Tyr, c'mon! That was just a threat, just to make sure I knew you were serious. Look, I admit, I was wrong to go running off like that and I deserve to be punished, I'll buy that. I'll take it quietly even but something else, anything else. Don't spank me, Tyr, please?"
Tyr said nothing, only continued to meet Harper's pleading gaze with his own resolute one. At last, Harper sighed, a blush creeping slowly up his face.
"Fine. You're right, you said it, it's gotta happen. But swear to me, you aren't gonna tell Dylan or anybody else about this? It's just between us, right? Swear it, Tyr."
"You have my word. No one will know that I spanked you."
"Oh, man, just the word...alright, let's do this, get it over with. How...how do you, you know, want me?" Harper was fidgeting but he was also compliant, and Tyr credited him for the bravery.
"Across my knee, of course."
"Of course, what was I thinking?"
"You are obviously not thinking that your mouth and attitude might lead to a worse punishment." Tyr made the statement quietly, and Harper bit his lip.
"Sorry. I'm just...not lookin' forward to this, you know?"
"Sensible. It is not something to be looked forward to, not by either of us." The last was a kindness on Tyr's part, and Harper nodded.
"I'm ready, Tyr."
Tyr moved to a low rock along one wall of the cave. Seating himself, he held out his hand to Harper, drawing the trembling form face down across his knees.
"Why do I punish you, Harper?" Tyr asked it, even as he drew his hand back. It was a hard spank, echoing loudly in the cave, and Harper jerked with surprise and pain.
"Ow! Uhm, because I endangered...Ouch!...my life, I endangered my life." Tyr continued spanking, bringing his solid palm down repeatedly on the squirming bottom. He was determined Harper would not make that mistake again. When he thought his message had been received, he spoke again.
"Why else?"
"Uhnnn! Because...because I should...Owww!...should have talked to you. Ahhh!"
Another series of blistering spanks made Tyr's point for him, very well. Harper continued to yelp and jerk across the broad thigh, but Tyr pinned him as easily as if he had been a child in size, as well as in spirit.
"And one more reason, Seamus Harper, why I punish you, the most important of the reasons. Can you name it?"
The spanks were drawing tears as well as yelps, the hand targeting the undercurve, the sit spots, layering the pain in the sensitive area. Harper thought, the rise and fall of Tyr's large hand motivating him to find the answer quickly. When he finally thought of it, he grinned, despite his tears and throbbing rear.
"Because you care." It signaled the end of the punishment and Tyr rubbed the lean back soothingly.
"Yes, sweet child. I care." Tyr gave Harper a few more moments, then eased the younger man over carefully, helping him to stand, before drawing him into a hug.
"Thanks, Tyr."
"You are welcome, Harper." Harper held tighter as he felt the brief touch of lips to the top of his head.
"Come, the storm is ending and we have work to do. I would leave this world as soon as possible."
"Yes, Tyr." Harper, back in control now, eased back, wiping his face. He gathered his equipment and stood, calmly waiting for Tyr to lead them back into the forest.
When the big man turned, looking to the path ahead of them, Harper gingerly rubbed a hand across his wailing backside. He might not be able to sit down, but he could and would follow Tyr anywhere.
THE END.
