"I'm not getting into that surface pod alone with him." Alexander crossed his arms and stormed to the other side of the bay.

"Alexander, I need you. Lazarus is Taggart's right hand man." Jason threw a convivial arm around his shoulders. "I need you to be my right hand. So to speak," he added in that voice that may or may not indicate a joke.

"Don't touch me!" Alexander seethed and threw him off. "I've seen the show; I know how this plays out! This will be exactly like episode 13. That pod is a crash waiting to happen. I'm not getting in there with you, and you can't make me!"

"What's wrong with episode 13?" Guy piped up. "I loved that one! We got to see Tev'Meck, and Lazarus got all hot and bothered, and there was that way cool fight!" Guy made slashing motions as if wielding a weapon with both hands. "And best of all, no unnamed crewmen died!"

"Not everything filmed for that episode made it on screen." It came out enigmatic, likely worsening things, but Gwen tried to diffuse the situation by at least steering Guy out of the fray.

"How bad could it be?" Guy wouldn't give it up. "The networks are such pussies."

"Episode 13 was originally a pilot pitched to HBO. When they didn't buy it, it was redone and tamed down." Gwen had them to a computer interface now.

"Well, what...?"

Jason materialized behind them, threw one arm around each, and squeezed. He leaned toward Guy's ear. "Did you ever see the shower-room scenes in OZ?" He winked. "That's what HBO was looking for, even then."

Guy looked to Gwen.

Gwen gave an 'it's-a-living' shrug.

"So that's Grabthar's hammer." Jason took the urinal beside Alexander and let fly.

"What did you expect? It should be green?"

"You wear it all the time?" Jason nodded to the latex prosthetic Alexander held in his hand. "I guess that is a convenience. If that Mak'Teck fever hits in between drug stores--Poof!--you're covered. You old dog!" Jason jostled him with his unoccupied elbow.

"You would think like that. It's called method acting, Jason. I know you haven't studied it, but I thought you might at least be familiar with the technique." Alexander shook, checked the prosthetic for dribbles, and zipped, keeping his eyes carefully ahead only. "But yes, now I see why you might be confused."

Many people believed that Alexander was a haughty snoot because he disliked people. They didn't realize that was just the way he was. If he disliked someone, the resultant combination was mostly an interesting coincidence.

"No, I just think 'hammer'...tool...power. I expected something more. . . ." Jason made one half of an expansive gesture with his free hand. "The way you make such a big deal, bellowing that line: 'By Grabthar's hammer!' The chest thumping. You've got to admit, it's sort of a let down when you get to the reveal."

Alexander tried to remember his blood pressure...and the code of the Mak'Tar. "I'm calling my agent. I am NOT doing this, and he can't make me! I can't believe I turned down Equus to be here!" He let the door bang shut behind him as he made for the nearest phone.

"What did I miss?" Guy asked.

"Computer, display Historical document: Galaxy Quest, episode 13." Gwen spoke to the panel and a screen on the console changed.

Guy leaned in closer.

"Have you ever been alone--really alone?" Alexander let his voice quaver.

"Yes, I have." Jason grabbed his hands. He spun him around and stared directly into his eyes.

That wasn't in the directions.

Alexander found himself dragged into those eyes. They were the most amazing hazel with little gold flecks. Weak and watery, but with a suggestion that they could be so much more if only the right person were there to bring it out. They were the kind of eyes one could get lost in if one didn't know what an insufferable ass the man was.

The pause before Alexander spoke again was longer than the previous take. No one but he would realize it wasn't intentional. "It's a deeply personal thing," he said. The words came easily now. He was living Lazarus's pain. "A Mak'Tar understands, but we do not speak of it, not even amongst ourselves."

"Yeah, but the bees and salmon, you talk with them." Jason fell out of character and joked.

"Cut!" Dean, the director yelled. It wasn't a happy yell. "Jason, knock it off. We've got three hours and eight scenes to get in the can."

"Sorry, Dean. Sometimes I can't help myself. You know how that is, don't you? Jason slapped Alexander across the back. That Blood Tic stuff must be catching."

"I'm going to kill him. Really I am," Alexander muttered to no one.

"From the top," Dean called out. "Positions, people. Go."

"Computer," Gwen said. "Is it possible that was a blooper reel?"

"Affirmative. Historical Document: Galaxy Quest Blooper Reel, segment with episode 13 displayed."

"That was the take that made the blooper reel," Gwen said.

Guy rolled his eyes. "I heard."

"Computer, is there a non-blooper reel historical document of episode 13?"

"Affirmative."

"Computer, play episode 13 from the historical document that is not a blooper reel."

Guy leaned in again.

"Have you ever been alone? Really alone?" In the eerie, alien environs of his quarters, Lazarus held himself stiff and stock-still.

"Yes, Lazarus, I have." Taggart sounded atypically serious, intense.

"Yes. I believe you have."

Taggart took the tightly clasped hands and fondled them. "The commander is always alone, no beach to walk on, no one to share his burdens until... Until there was you, my logical friend." Taggart let one hand wander to the uniform zipper and down.

"Oh, Peter--" Lazarus groaned and threw his head back, eyes closed, his entire body trembling.

Taggart went to his knees, and the screen faded to a burst of stars.

"Whoa!" said Guy. "And I thought The Odd Couple was the first show to go there."

"That's not all of it," Gwen said. With a sidelong glance to Jason, she began to tell the tale.

Jason was whistling when he came into the men's room. "How you doing?" He nodded to Alexander at the stall beside him.

"Well, thank you." Alexander held his 'hammer' with one hand and the bathroom tile with the other.

Jason finished, shook, zipped,washed and Alexander was still standing silent and facing he porcelain.

"Problem there, Buddy?" Jason asked.

"The prosthesis. It's...tight. Alexander strained with visible effort, and his hammer jumped. "I can't--"

"Let me see."

"The hell I will!"

Jason had already bent down to eyeball level. "Hey, Alex! You've grown up from this morning. I guess the girls like you British guys for more than just that foo-foo accent."

"Jason, I'm warning you--"

"Whoa! Is it supposed to be red like that?" Jason had his neck bent and his head sort of tucked around and under.

"It's been chafing all day. You had to force a dozen takes, didn't you?" Alexander made as if to give up his futile task.

Jason studied the situation with interest. He reached out a finger.

"Stop that! The ridges are... sensitive. I think I might be allergic to the glue." Alexander squirmed, and swelled even tighter within the costume piece.

"Tough break." Jason ran his finger all around one ridge, and Alexander hissed in sharply.

"Don't!"

"Was that 'Don't. Stop,' or 'Don't stop?'" Jason asked. His thumb and finger pressed harder and faster.

"Of all the pathetic, anemic pick-up lines--" Alexander lost his train of thought. It did itch, and the rubbing felt divine. The urge to pee, the urge to come, and the urge to do--well, what ever it was he wanted to do in life--all sort of merged into one giant need, centered in his privates and being massaged by Jason's hand.

"How much does this thing stretch?" Jason asked. He plucked at the latex sheath. He breathed at face level with it now, breath warm, lips only centimeters away.

"If you only do one other thing for me ever in your life, please stop talking now." With his body, Alexander moved as to herd him into the nearest stall.

Jason went down on his knees before the toilet and took every bit of that latex covered hammer until Alexander cried out to all the sons of Warvan.

The itch burned worse in the heat and friction, urging on the need to thrust harder, faster in one vicious, spiraling, self-defeating circle. In less than a minute Alexander gave it up: itch, glue, and latex not withstanding.

He sagged against the cold metal of the bathroom stall.

"You're going to need to go by makeup," Jason said. Grabthar's hammer was indeed a limp and soggy mess.

Jason straightened and brushed off his knees. He patted Alexander on the shoulder as he nudged him away from the stall latch and farther down the side wall. "Excuse me." Jason let himself out.

"Damn you, Jason Nesmith. I wish I knew how to quit you." But the Mak'Tar are not slave to their emotions, so Alexander pulled himself together, physically at least. He staggered from the stall, confused and knees weak. He faltered for a moment and looked both ways before managing his way to the hall.

Gwen caught Jason farther down the same hallway. She sniffed. "Did you have onions for lunch?" She sniffed again.

"Chicken fingers. Why?" He put an arm around her. Damn. He'd forgotten to wash his hands again.

"Your breath smells funny."

"Huh." Jason exhaled into his palm. "I'll see a dentist next week."

"I'll be!" Guy looked a little stunned. "I'd thought that was a long time to carry a grudge about lines and lighting."

Gwen looked uncomfortable. "Well, actually--"

"Hey, Dean. I've been thinking." Jason strolled over to the director. "Me being the commander and all, don't you think I ought to be the guy pitching?" Jason made a goofy baseball pantomime. "I mean, who's going to buy a galactic space commander being done by a guy with weird ears. Think about it."

"It's my scene!" Alexander exploded. "The Blood Tic! I'm an animal! A savage, wild, animal! You can't give him my scene. This is the one that makes me!"

"The fans won't like it," Jason warned. "Savage animal or heroic commander: think about the merchandise franchise."

Dean rubbed his chin. "Okay, everyone. We're doing the marriage arena scene over with some changes."

Alexander laid his temples between his fists and began to sob.

"Hey!" said the director. "Watch the makeup!"

"Even so," said Guy, "it was eighteen years ago."

"Twenty-one." From the corner of the room, Alexander moaned as if he was pronouncing a death sentence.

"Eighteen, twenty-one what's the difference?"

"Twenty-one is a multiple of seven." Alexander heaved up the explanation as if the effort might take his vitals with it. He hid his head in his hands.

"You mean--" Gwen started.

Alexander nodded. "Mak'Teck biology." His voice was barely audible.

Multiple pairs of eyes shot around the room. Alexander could take this method shit too far sometimes.

"Uh, fellows, it's just a show," Guy tried. "None of this is real, remember?"

Just then Malthesar waddled in. "The beryllium sphere's stability has degraded to 14%. If it is not refined and replaced within the next three hours, this entire ship will explode, vaporizing itself and everything within ten parsecs." His grin spread wider and he made that odd little alien laugh.

"Okay!" Jason hopped up and rubbed his palms. "We're on it! who's coming with me?"

"I'll go." Fred said.

They'd forgotten about him.

When Fred started for the pod, Laliari pulled one of her tentacles out from no-one-wanted-to-know-exactly-where on him and morphed it to merge back into her humanoid form.

"Blood fever doesn't scare me." Fred slid into a pod chair and rummaged for any munchies that might still be around.

"Ah! But you've never seen a full-blooded Mak'Tar in the grip of the Blood Tic! Buckle up." Jason took the co-captain's seat and waved Lazarus to the controls.

Lazarus moved like a beast on the hunt. His eyes were flame. The hatch door closed behind them.

To no one's surprise, the surface pod did indeed crash near a cave, but they all made it back in one piece to mind the store and got the beryllium sphere fixed to boot.

However, it was after that trip that Fred swore off drugs forever.