Not Always Served Cold

BY : MikeJaffa
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 2203
Disclaimer: Tribune owns Andromeda; I am not making money off this fic

TITLE: Not Always Served Cold -- or -- Beka Gets It In The End 

AUTHOR: MikeJaffa  

SYNOPIS: Payback's a bitch; sometimes, she's named "Rommie." 

SETTING: Early/mid S4 

PAIRING: Rommie and Beka and clothing

A/N:  Wrote it years ago under the name “MikeJoe” in answer to a challenge about a character being “assaulted” by his or her clothes. 

DISCLAIMER: ANDROMEDA is owned by Tribune; I am not making any money off writing and publishing this fic. 

WARNING. My silly muse is on a rampage. So put down the soda and the cheesy poofs. If you don't choke, you'd want to throw something at the screen. Can't have either one. 




"Is it absolutely necessary for me to be naked while you do this?" Rommie asked, all business, as she lay flat on her back on a table in one of the *Andromeda Ascendant's* machine shops as Beka passed diagnostic instruments over the beautiful android's body. 

Beka grinned. "Oh, c'mon, Rommie, I thought you'd trust little ol' me more than Harper." 

"You'd be surprised at the extent to which Harper can 'keep it in his pants' when repairs to my avatar are concerned. That includes not making me take my clothes off. I'm surprised you require it." 

"Little homophobic there, Rommie?" 

"No. It's hardly relevant. I'm an AI; human modes of sexuality are not an issue with me, one way or the other." 

"Not like you're not equipped for them." 

"Can we stay on topic, please?" 

"Ok." But Beka kept smiling. "Well, I just do things a little differently from Harper. He may be able to tell which one of your servos is on the fritz by the way you say, 'Dammit, Harper!' but I'm a little slower and have to *see* what I'm working on." 

"And getting amused by it, suspiciously so." 

"Rommie! You're making me think you don't trust me." 

"Of course I trust you, Beka, although I must confess I will be glad to have Harper back. I am his area of expertise, after all." 

"Yeah, but I'm no slouch, either." 


Beka put down her tools and turned to tab commands into a nearby control panel. "Almost ..... There! All done. How do you feel?" 

"Fine. Thank you." Rommie sat up and reached for her underwear. 

Beka almost raced for the door. "Any time, Rommie! Gotta head to Command. Busy busy busy while Dylan's away. And don't forget you have to be there to meet the ambassador!" 

Rommie frowned at the hatch that had closed behind Beka as she finished clipping her bra shut. Then she pulled on her panties -- 

--- and winced as the fabric touched her clitoris! 

"What the --- AAAAAHHHH!" Rommie cried, surprise and indignation outweighing the ecstasy. Which is saying something. 

Andromeda's hologram, the form Harper had long ago crafted into Rommie, materialized next to her orgasmic android self. "What's wrong with you?" 

"What do you thi-hiiii-eeeeeee----" Rommie shuddered through another orgasm as she staggered across the room and flopped into a chair. "Oh, God .... oh, Jesus ..... " 

"Well, at least you are --- " 

"DAMMIT, BEKA!" Rommie shouted. 

"You think she .... engineered this deliberately?" Andromeda asked. 

"You think she didn't?" 

"Well, I'd like more evidence before assigning blame." 

"Have it your way." Rommie closer her eyes. "Running diagnostic of avatar systems ..... " 

The systems check took less than a heartbeat, the results instantly entering both Andromeda's and Rommie's awarenesses. 

Rommie, of course, was pissed off. "Tell me that's not deliberately! A 256 character password protecting that system so I can't just recalibrate it or turn it off?" 

"Unfortunately, this isn't a court martialable offense, even if----" 

"Forget that!" Rommie glared down at her crotch. "I never wanted the stupid thing anyway. If we can't do it through software, we'll have to---" 

"No an option, I'm afraid," Andromeda said sympathetically. "Aside from fact that removing that particular 'extra' would take a major dismantling and rebuild of your lower body best supervised by Harper himself, we do not have time. The ambassador's shuttle is on final approach." 

"An ambassador from one of the most sexually repressed societies in the Known Worlds. Tell me she didn't plan this!" 

"No argument on that point. I can hack though her password, but even considering that I started fifteen seconds ago, I may not be done in time for you to meet the ambassador." 

"Wonderful. So what do you suggest?" 

Andromeda pointed at a nearby locker. "Well, the good news is there is fluid absorbing underwear in that locker." 

"And the bad news?" 

"It will make the 'effect' worse." 



"'Worse,'" Rommie groused, trying to maintain both her composure and her best scowl even as her pussy went haywire. Again. "When did I develop a talent for understatement?" 

"That's uncalled for," the ship's voice hissed. "I'm on your side." 

"Sorry. What's the ETA on that password?" 

"Not soon enough." 

"Tell me about it." Rommie rounded the last corner to the docking airlock, to find Beka had already met the ambassador, a stiff formal man in a stiff formal suit surrounded by a stiff formal entourage. 

Rommie kept a smile on her face and reduced the effect of orgasm #47 to a small whimper though sheer bloody-mindedness. 

Beka turned and smiled at Rommie. "And there she is now! Ambassador Traedjian, this is Rommie, our ship's avatar." 

"Pleasure," Traedjian said, shaking Rommie's hand. 

"The pleasure is mine, Ambassador," Rommie said, practically overloading her facial servos to hold her smile. Unfortunately, Ambassador Traedjian was a very attractive man. That and the underwear meant it looked like orgasm #48, which her body was already building towards, would be a doozey, almost impossible to conceal. She had to get clear of here as soon as possible. 

Traedjian released Rommie's hand (much to her relief). "I've heard a great deal about you," he said. "Cybernetics is a hobby of mine. I hadn't realized you're so lifelike. In fact, I do believe you're sweating." 

"Oh ... yes," Rommie stammered (she hadn't noticed she was sweating). "Perspiration serves the same purpose for me as for organics, namely to keep my vital systems cool." 

"Oh?" Beka said pleasantly, a devilish gleam in her eye. "And what's making things *hot,* Rommie?" 

"I was tardy," Rommie said, hoping her smile not only concealed the mounting sexual ecstasy but the homicidal gleam in her eye. "I ran here to keep my meeting with the ambassador." 

"No offense taken, Rommie," Traedjian said. "In fact, I'm hoping you can join us. I'd like to get to know you better." 

"I have no objection," Beka said. 

"Ahhhhh....." Rommie said. "I'm sorry, Ambassador, but I have duties I must attend to *immediately.*" 

"Oh, I quite understand the call of duty. Perhaps later then?" 

"Of course. If you'll excuse me. Ambassador. Bekaaa." 

Rommie held it until she got to the nearest empty machine shop with the thickets walls, then crashed to the floor, crying out in a mixture of ecstasy, embarrassment, and outrage. 

"Got it!" the hologram announced on appearing. "Entering password." 

Rommie's orgasmic shuddering stopped on the instant. "You took your time, Andromeda. Are you in cahoots with Beka?" 

"No! Furthermore, Rommie, I'll remind you that I will not assist you in the murder of one of our officers, however richly she deserves it." 

"And if I'm thinking of something short of homicide?" 

"Depends on what you have in mind." 

"Uploading battle plan." 

An instant later, the hologram smiled. "Well, it may not look good on my service record, but I think I can work with this ..... " 



"Hey!" Beka said, looking up from the *Eureka Maru's* pilot's console as Rommie, hands held behind her back, entered the cockpit. "You know the boys are back in town?" 

"Yes, Dylan, Harper, and Rhade have returned." 

"And I am off the diplomacy detail, finally! So .... anything I can do for you, Rommie?" 

Rommie smiled. "That was an interesting joke, Beka." 

"Rommie! You wound me. I just made certain all your systems were operating within specifications." 

"Including my clitoris, which under normal circumstances is 4,837 times as sensitive as a human's, so for me to function, Harper has to turn the gain down to almost nothing." 


"And having it operate at a normal level just as the ambassador arrived put me in a compromising situation, never mind the potential diplomatic incident." 

Beka sighed -- she'd been busted. "Ok, Rommie, I'm sorry. But I couldn't resist. You're so stiff sometimes, I just wanted to loosen you up a little. It was all in fun. No hard feelings?" 

Rommie's smile broadened. "'Hard feelings,'" she said, taking the paper bag out from behind her back. "That's an interesting way of putting it." 

"Uhhh.....Rommie? What's in the bag ...... ?" 



"Ah, there they are now!" Dylan said, spying Rommie and Beka by the docking airlock as he walked up with Traedjian. "Ambassador, I believe you've met my first officer and my ship's avatar." 

"Yes, I have," Traedjian said. "Are you all right, Captain Valentine? You seem to be sweating this time." 

"Ah, well, just worked out," Beka said, smiling. 

Dylan didn't quite buy it. "And .... that buzzing noise?" he asked. 

"Insulin pump," Beka said quickly. 

"Oh. I hadn't realized," Traedjian said. "I had an uncle with diabetes; I quite understand. Well, in any case, Captain Hunt here was just praising your piloting skills. Perhaps you would do me the honor of flying my shuttle back to the surface?" 

Beka yelped, "NOW!? Oh, uh, no, not now. Have duties to attend to aaaaaaaahhhhnnnnnnd ... stuff to do. Busy busy busy for the first officer." 

"Ah, well, then I won't detain you anymore. A pleasure to see you again though." 

When Traedjian had gone through the airlock and Beka had hurried down the corridor, Dylan sidled over to his ship's avatar. "Rommie?" 


"Tell me Beka wasn't standing here with a vibrator in her, uh, private area." 

"She was not." 


"She has one vibrator in her vagina, one in her anus, and a swarm of nanobots stimulating her clitoris." 

"And how did that happen?" 

"Because I put them there." 

"I see." 

"I will, of course, put a note on my service record -- " 

"Don't bother, Rommie. I don't even want to know how this happened. I'll just go back to my cabin and scream for ten minutes." 

"That never does any good, Dylan." 

"With this crew? No, you're right, it doesn't, but it makes me feel better." 


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