fic: Even Heroes, Cally/Travis, PG, babyfic (Blake's 7)
Title: Even Heroes
Challenge: Strange Bedfellows at b7friday
Set: AU, post-Star One/Terminal
Pairing: Cally/Travis
Genre: babyfic, action/adventure
Rating: er... PG for violence and maybe some language.
Warning: fluff? oddness? What is this, I don't even-ness? OOC-ness?
Notes: Don't ask me, I only work here. (no, really, I have no words for this). Also, this started as a drabble and managed to make it to more-than-a-drabble, so, drabble posted here. Link at the bottom to the rest (drabble is self-contained)
Length: (1000+ for the full enchilada)
I blame redstarrobot
"I'm pregnant."
Not the words Travis was expecting to hear from Cally of Auron.
Something flickered over her face, and one eyebrow went up. "You'll have to set the charges on the far wall once you've stopped catching flies."
Cally didn't wait for him to reply before turning away, and doubling over, her hand clamped suddenly over her mouth.
Oh.. Travis suddenly got the reason for that and decided that he could take her order. For the moment. When he returned, and they weren't too close to the blast radius for comfort, then he could demand more of an explanation.
-
Travis didn't get his explanation for nearly four months (the explosion went off too early and they split for separate destinations with no more than a few hand gestures). The sun was high in the sky and Cally's gun was pointed precisely at his forehead.
"Yes, it's yours."
"I didn't think the Auronar bothered with reproduction these days." He was pleased with the sneer in his voice.
The gun didn't waver. "You'd be surprised." A flicker of amusement went through Cally's eyes and she slowly lowered the gun, "We've got a job to do."
If she felt ungainly, she didn't show it, moving with confidence through the streets. Just another pregnant woman out for a stroll.
-
The problem with planning an op with a nine-months pregnant Auronar was that she would insist on participating. Predictably, the baby would decide that it wanted out sometime during the op.
Kneeling in a back alley with Cally biting on his shoulder, her fingers digging into his wrists was not what Travis had planned to do in the least. But then again, being pregnant had never been Cally's plan, either. Once the contraction had passed, he got her back on her feet and they ran.
By the time they reached a hospital, she was leaning over, her voice hoarse with restraint and a desire to murder him.
Since that was par for the course, he let it slide.
-
Travis eyed the wrinkly thing the nurse had handed him while the rest bustled around Cally, whose eyes were closed with exhaustion.
"It's a girl," one of them chirped helpfully at him.
A girl. Travis tilted the not-girl-shaped-baby-thing and tried to figure out whom she resembled more.
"You could give her to me and go," Cally mumbled.
He could. There was a half-finished operation to consider, and a minister to bribe. Still... He shrugged and moved closer, still fascinated by the slight weight in his arms. "I'll go in the morning."
Besides, ministers were easiest to intimidate before they'd had their morning coffee and hookers.
-
"The minister was a little resistant." Travis had washed his hands before returning to the hospital room, where he'd found Cally getting dressed, her hands steadier than he'd expected.
Cally looked over at him, half-amused. "I'm unsurprised."
Somewhere, Travis had a feeling there were nurses who would be clucking and making those tsk-ing noises that got on his nerves. "It's barely been a day. You should rest." Empty words, but someone was going to object out there.
"I'm not tired. The nurses can look after her until we're finished--" Cally paused, then added, her tone dry, "Or you could stay. The last time you set charges, you bungled them."
Fair point. Travis still glared. "You gave me short fuses."
"No excuses." Shouldering the bag, Cally smirked, "I think you'd better stay and keep them from taking away the baby."
"You're keeping her?"
"Even you can't want the Federation to raise her."
Another fair point. Travis scowled after her departing back.
-
The op finished without anymore hitches, the nurses clucked over Travis, the baby, Cally, and each other until finally they were discharged into the wild. Travis found himself with a slightly-more-human-looking baby sprawled against his shoulder while Cally was wheeled outside to the waiting hover car.
"It really wasn't necessary," Cally told the nurse.
"Nonsense, dear, no one leaves this hospital on their own two feet if we can help it." The cheerful woman smiled at her, then beamed at Travis, "You take good care of her, young man."
Somehow, they got into the hired car without Cally laughing or Travis dropping the baby.
Cally drove.
-
"We really should name her something other than baby." Travis was reluctant to broach the subject, but after two weeks of Cally and a baby that seemed to hate sleep, he was feeling a little tired and annoyed.
They were on a star liner headed for one of the more secluded sectors of space. Cally thought laying low for a while would be good for the baby. Travis thought she might eventually murder him in his sleep.
Cally rubbed her eyes and jiggled the half-sleeping baby in her arms. "I suppose we should."
"Servalan?"
"If I kill you, I'll get a better water ration. Jenna."
"Sentimental," Travis sneered. "What about Avalon."
That made Cally glare, "No need to curse the child while she's young, Travis. Or would you prefer Kasabi?"
If he could have been wounded... Travis shook his head, "Too many people still looking for that name. What about naming her something alien? She isn't human, after all." And she was certainly the better for it.
"Yes." Cally's face closed down and she smiled at him. "I was forgetting that. Zeta, then. Is that alien enough for you?"
-
The problem was that it was terribly reasonable that when Cally would say things like, "Travis, watch Zeta for me, there's a series of cascading charges to set." or, "I was up all night interrogating the minister of internal affairs, it's your turn to get Zeta for her feed." or, "You can leave whenever you want." Travis would then find himself doing things that included burping a colicky baby, or burning the inside of his wrist when he'd heated the bottle too long.
It wasn't that he liked the baby, he was very certain he didn't like her, not in the least. But it was easier to do things for her than listen to her whimper and howl. And Zeta could howl. Whatever else she'd inherited from Travis, he was sort of vaguely proud that she'd inherited his lungs.
-
"This was a horrible idea," Cally hissed at him. They were surrounded, though the guards hadn't discovered where they were hiding yet.
Ignoring her, Travis turned his head a little, checking that Zeta was all right against his shoulder. He wasn't sure he remembered Cally handing him the baby, but there had been detonators to wire and a sniper setup. Zeta was utterly silent, her eyes open wide as she stared around them.
"You didn't want anything elaborate," he shot back, wondering what the guards would make of the baby if he put her on one of the nearby boxes. Her crying would prove a good distraction.
Crawling forward, Cally murmured over her shoulder, the words carrying back to him: "I'm beginning to regret not killing you."
Without answering her, Travis shifted his weight onto one hand and his knees, and followed her.
Cally glanced at him as he came even with her, "Support her neck!" she hissed sharply.
Why he bothered, Travis didn't want to think about. He slid back a little, then shifted Zeta, so that she was more against his chest, his arm cradling her. "Get a move on." There wasn't anywhere they could go--he could see that the circle was getting closer. They might be able to shoot their way out, but he wasn't going to bet money on it.
"Not yet." Cally leaned towards him, her voice quiet, "When the explosions start, run. Don't wait for me."
Leaving him with Zeta, she crawled back the way they'd come.
-
Cally was waiting for them when he finally reached their concealed shuttle. She was dirty, soot and sweat streaking her face and leather. Zeta made a squeaky, crying noise, and Travis handed her over.
He was silent while Cally shifted and held the baby so that she could nuzzle the side of her face.
"We should leave before they close the ports," Cally murmured.
Travis turned away, the point between his shoulder blades itching as though someone were training a gun-sight on him. "I'll get the engines running."
A moment later, with a squirming Zeta in her arms, Cally took the co-pilot's seat and strapped in, glancing at him only once. "I hope your piloting is better than Ghera Major."
He snorted, finished the last pre-flight check, and took them up into the stratosphere.
-f-
Challenge: Strange Bedfellows at b7friday
Set: AU, post-Star One/Terminal
Pairing: Cally/Travis
Genre: babyfic, action/adventure
Rating: er... PG for violence and maybe some language.
Warning: fluff? oddness? What is this, I don't even-ness? OOC-ness?
Notes: Don't ask me, I only work here. (no, really, I have no words for this). Also, this started as a drabble and managed to make it to more-than-a-drabble, so, drabble posted here. Link at the bottom to the rest (drabble is self-contained)
Length: (1000+ for the full enchilada)
I blame redstarrobot
"I'm pregnant."
Not the words Travis was expecting to hear from Cally of Auron.
Something flickered over her face, and one eyebrow went up. "You'll have to set the charges on the far wall once you've stopped catching flies."
Cally didn't wait for him to reply before turning away, and doubling over, her hand clamped suddenly over her mouth.
Oh.. Travis suddenly got the reason for that and decided that he could take her order. For the moment. When he returned, and they weren't too close to the blast radius for comfort, then he could demand more of an explanation.
-
Travis didn't get his explanation for nearly four months (the explosion went off too early and they split for separate destinations with no more than a few hand gestures). The sun was high in the sky and Cally's gun was pointed precisely at his forehead.
"Yes, it's yours."
"I didn't think the Auronar bothered with reproduction these days." He was pleased with the sneer in his voice.
The gun didn't waver. "You'd be surprised." A flicker of amusement went through Cally's eyes and she slowly lowered the gun, "We've got a job to do."
If she felt ungainly, she didn't show it, moving with confidence through the streets. Just another pregnant woman out for a stroll.
-
The problem with planning an op with a nine-months pregnant Auronar was that she would insist on participating. Predictably, the baby would decide that it wanted out sometime during the op.
Kneeling in a back alley with Cally biting on his shoulder, her fingers digging into his wrists was not what Travis had planned to do in the least. But then again, being pregnant had never been Cally's plan, either. Once the contraction had passed, he got her back on her feet and they ran.
By the time they reached a hospital, she was leaning over, her voice hoarse with restraint and a desire to murder him.
Since that was par for the course, he let it slide.
-
Travis eyed the wrinkly thing the nurse had handed him while the rest bustled around Cally, whose eyes were closed with exhaustion.
"It's a girl," one of them chirped helpfully at him.
A girl. Travis tilted the not-girl-shaped-baby-thing and tried to figure out whom she resembled more.
"You could give her to me and go," Cally mumbled.
He could. There was a half-finished operation to consider, and a minister to bribe. Still... He shrugged and moved closer, still fascinated by the slight weight in his arms. "I'll go in the morning."
Besides, ministers were easiest to intimidate before they'd had their morning coffee and hookers.
-
"The minister was a little resistant." Travis had washed his hands before returning to the hospital room, where he'd found Cally getting dressed, her hands steadier than he'd expected.
Cally looked over at him, half-amused. "I'm unsurprised."
Somewhere, Travis had a feeling there were nurses who would be clucking and making those tsk-ing noises that got on his nerves. "It's barely been a day. You should rest." Empty words, but someone was going to object out there.
"I'm not tired. The nurses can look after her until we're finished--" Cally paused, then added, her tone dry, "Or you could stay. The last time you set charges, you bungled them."
Fair point. Travis still glared. "You gave me short fuses."
"No excuses." Shouldering the bag, Cally smirked, "I think you'd better stay and keep them from taking away the baby."
"You're keeping her?"
"Even you can't want the Federation to raise her."
Another fair point. Travis scowled after her departing back.
-
The op finished without anymore hitches, the nurses clucked over Travis, the baby, Cally, and each other until finally they were discharged into the wild. Travis found himself with a slightly-more-human-looking baby sprawled against his shoulder while Cally was wheeled outside to the waiting hover car.
"It really wasn't necessary," Cally told the nurse.
"Nonsense, dear, no one leaves this hospital on their own two feet if we can help it." The cheerful woman smiled at her, then beamed at Travis, "You take good care of her, young man."
Somehow, they got into the hired car without Cally laughing or Travis dropping the baby.
Cally drove.
-
"We really should name her something other than baby." Travis was reluctant to broach the subject, but after two weeks of Cally and a baby that seemed to hate sleep, he was feeling a little tired and annoyed.
They were on a star liner headed for one of the more secluded sectors of space. Cally thought laying low for a while would be good for the baby. Travis thought she might eventually murder him in his sleep.
Cally rubbed her eyes and jiggled the half-sleeping baby in her arms. "I suppose we should."
"Servalan?"
"If I kill you, I'll get a better water ration. Jenna."
"Sentimental," Travis sneered. "What about Avalon."
That made Cally glare, "No need to curse the child while she's young, Travis. Or would you prefer Kasabi?"
If he could have been wounded... Travis shook his head, "Too many people still looking for that name. What about naming her something alien? She isn't human, after all." And she was certainly the better for it.
"Yes." Cally's face closed down and she smiled at him. "I was forgetting that. Zeta, then. Is that alien enough for you?"
-
The problem was that it was terribly reasonable that when Cally would say things like, "Travis, watch Zeta for me, there's a series of cascading charges to set." or, "I was up all night interrogating the minister of internal affairs, it's your turn to get Zeta for her feed." or, "You can leave whenever you want." Travis would then find himself doing things that included burping a colicky baby, or burning the inside of his wrist when he'd heated the bottle too long.
It wasn't that he liked the baby, he was very certain he didn't like her, not in the least. But it was easier to do things for her than listen to her whimper and howl. And Zeta could howl. Whatever else she'd inherited from Travis, he was sort of vaguely proud that she'd inherited his lungs.
-
"This was a horrible idea," Cally hissed at him. They were surrounded, though the guards hadn't discovered where they were hiding yet.
Ignoring her, Travis turned his head a little, checking that Zeta was all right against his shoulder. He wasn't sure he remembered Cally handing him the baby, but there had been detonators to wire and a sniper setup. Zeta was utterly silent, her eyes open wide as she stared around them.
"You didn't want anything elaborate," he shot back, wondering what the guards would make of the baby if he put her on one of the nearby boxes. Her crying would prove a good distraction.
Crawling forward, Cally murmured over her shoulder, the words carrying back to him: "I'm beginning to regret not killing you."
Without answering her, Travis shifted his weight onto one hand and his knees, and followed her.
Cally glanced at him as he came even with her, "Support her neck!" she hissed sharply.
Why he bothered, Travis didn't want to think about. He slid back a little, then shifted Zeta, so that she was more against his chest, his arm cradling her. "Get a move on." There wasn't anywhere they could go--he could see that the circle was getting closer. They might be able to shoot their way out, but he wasn't going to bet money on it.
"Not yet." Cally leaned towards him, her voice quiet, "When the explosions start, run. Don't wait for me."
Leaving him with Zeta, she crawled back the way they'd come.
-
Cally was waiting for them when he finally reached their concealed shuttle. She was dirty, soot and sweat streaking her face and leather. Zeta made a squeaky, crying noise, and Travis handed her over.
He was silent while Cally shifted and held the baby so that she could nuzzle the side of her face.
"We should leave before they close the ports," Cally murmured.
Travis turned away, the point between his shoulder blades itching as though someone were training a gun-sight on him. "I'll get the engines running."
A moment later, with a squirming Zeta in her arms, Cally took the co-pilot's seat and strapped in, glancing at him only once. "I hope your piloting is better than Ghera Major."
He snorted, finished the last pre-flight check, and took them up into the stratosphere.
-f-