THEIR ACCOMPLICE

This is an AU based on the third-season episode entitled "Two Weeks In Space," with a brief reference to the second-season episode entitled "The Deadly Games Of Gamma Six." In this universe, the two male aliens didn't capture the Robinson women, take them to the lava cave, and attempt to throw them into the lava, for them to be saved only just in time by John Robinson and Don West clobbering the aliens. Here, Robinson and West come upon those same male aliens bidding their quick farewells to Smith.

            When Robinson and West charged past and lit into the belligerent aliens right in front of a badly-startled Smith, he cowered back hastily from the fray, shaken to the core. The horrifying, loud crack of each blow made Smith shudder, and the sudden spurts of blood nauseated him. Knowing all too well that he would be accurately seen as the aliens' accomplice in this, his most recent fiasco, he continued to back away slowly, while simultaneously covering the lower half of his face with his two hands, in horror, his fingers coming together just above his nose. By the time that Robinson and West had thoroughly dispensed with the aliens, Smith had backed up against a large rock formation, and could go no farther.

            Robinson and West wheeled on him, as angry with him as Smith had ever seen. The older man gasped, and his hands automatically dropped from his face, into prayer position, silently imploring their leniency. He shook his head slowly back and forth, softly murmuring, "No please, no please, no please...." His hands gradually separated, and were held up in front of him, symbolically fending off an attack, but they were shaking so badly that they seemed more feeble than protective. His breathing was a continuous quiet, unsteady gasping.

            The two brunettes were clearly enraged, and just barely managing to hold back from attacking. Seeing that, Smith once again covered his face with his hands, this time entirely, except for peering carefully between his fingers at them. As West made a preliminary move in his direction, the older man abruptly sank to his knees, once again gasping dramatically and whimpering in terror. West stood like an overeager racehorse at the starting gate, and his fists, hanging at his sides, were clenching and unclenching. Beside him, Robinson glared fiercely at Smith, and was clearly grinding his teeth in fury and frustration. Smith began softly sobbing, and tears ran down both cheeks.

            West let out a low imprecation, and declared, "Aw, Smith, you make me sick!"

            The two men exchanged a resigned look, turned, and stalked away from him. A few feet on, Robinson stopped, whirled back, and demanded, "Well? Coming??"

            Smith swallowed hard, and asked timidly, "Where?"

            "Back to the ship, of course!"

            "Yes, sir...." Smith rose unsteadily, and, careful not to follow too closely behind the men, slowly and obediently tiptoed after them.

            Partway there, tired of the small sounds of fright that Smith was making, West whirled back on him and ordered, "Stop whining!"

            "Yes, sir," Smith responded humbly. The rest of the way back to the Jupiter, he stifled himself as best he could with a hand over his own mouth.

            Once in front of the Jupiter II, the two brunettes dropped into their chairs at the table, Robinson at the end farthest from the spaceship, and West at an angle beside him, facing toward where Smith stood trembling.

            Robinson gestured impatiently, and told the older man, "Sit."

            Smith hesitated, and then carefully took the chair farthest from the men, at the opposite end of the table.

            Robinson observed him sardonically, and commented, "Well, you couldn't be any farther from us, and yet still sit at the same table."

            Ever-so-quietly, Smith murmured, "I'm afraid."

            "No kidding!" West retorted in disgust.

            Robinson motioned to the chair right across from West, and ordered, "Up here. We won't hurt you." His resentment at giving the reassurance was evident; he clearly felt that Smith deserved the same punishment that they had given the aliens, and he resented not administering it.

            Gingerly, reluctantly, Smith moved to the indicated seat. He still sat back in it as far as possible, and eyed both men with trepidation, from one to the other. Presently, he addressed West hesitantly, "You look like you're about to lunge across the table at me!"

            "I'd like to, believe me."

            In response, Smith hunkered down in his seat, making himself smaller.

            West glared, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned back resignedly in his own chair.

            Smith's gaze slid to the other dangerous man.

            Robinson sat similarly, glowering at him.

            Smith's eyes dropped to his lap, to watch his own fidgeting fingers.

            After a while, he looked up at them again, and meekly asked, "Where are the others?"

            Tersely, Robinson responded, "My wife and the children are below, searching our quarters, to make sure that nothing has gone missing." His angry message was clear: the "vacationing" aliens might have robbed them.

            As the implication sank in, Smith's eyes grew wide in shock, and he whispered, "I hadn't thought of that."

            "Well, you should have!" West barked at him. "They certainly had the opportunity to steal from us, since you put them in our rooms!"

            Smith sank even lower in the chair, and felt his previously pale-with-fright face turning red with humiliation.

            Robinson nodded at him slightly, in angry agreement with West's point.

            "Oh dear," murmured Smith, and then he shakily suggested, "Maybe I should go below and search my own quarters as well."

            "Stay where you are!" Robinson commanded. "I don't want you getting in my family's way; they are more than capable of searching thoroughly. Besides, your quarters won't have been robbed; you slept in your own room while the aliens were here, right??"

            Smith nodded mutely.

            "And furthermore," Robinson added ominously, "I don't want you trying to  influence my family to conceal a robbery out of pity for you. Because, so help me, if they come up here and report that we have been robbed, then heaven help you!"

            West began to crack an unsavory smile.

            Smith's heart lurched. "But...but...! You...said...you...wouldn't...hurt...me...!!"

            "So far, for the dumb stunt you pulled! But if we've been robbed, then that's an entirely separate matter!"

            West began to chuckle unpleasantly, and Robinson shot an agreeing slight smile at him.

            Smith swallowed hard and choked, eliciting a brief chuckle from Robinson as well.

            Smith's breathing was once again unsteady; his eyes filled and flowed once more; and he recommenced softly whispering, "No...no...no...no...." He eyed the two men plaintively, from one to the other.

            His piteous beseeching received no relenting response this time; the two men simply observed him quizzically, and this time, with honest enjoyment of his fear.

            "Please!! Hear my pleas...for mercy...." Smith faltered at the realization of his unintentional punning redundancy.

            Robinson and West harrumphed at him, and shook their heads in total lack of pity, both for his terror, and for his nonplussed, awkward, unintended repetition.

            Smith sat crying quietly for a bit, and then muttered a soft, "Ow," and rubbed at his left eye.

            "Ow?" parroted West. "We didn't even touch you yet."

            "I feel like something's in my eye."

            "It's your finger," Robinson said unsympathetically.

            "I know what I'd like to put in your eye." West's fist clenched where it lay on the table.

            Smith gasped unsteadily and reared back farther from the table, scooting his chair slightly, and inspiring a malevolent grin from his two tormentors. Then, he sniffed noisily and wiped at his nose.

            "Now what?" prompted Robinson.

            "Itches." The older man continued to rub vigorously at it.

            "I can make it stop itching," West offered, again forming his fist.

            Smith jolted again in his chair, and sniffed hard. A small trickle of blood dripped from his nose onto the table. He stared at it, stupefied. Nonsensically, he asked West, "How did you do that??"

            Robinson scoffed. "It's just your nerves. And the fact that you've been poking at it."

            West looked rueful. "If I hit you there, you'll know the difference. Both in amount of blood, and in pain."

            Hastily, Smith pulled out a handkerchief and mopped at his nose and at the table, embarrassed and disconcerted.

            Robinson gestured at Smith's continuing ministrations to his nose. "Stop picking at it, or you'll get it bleeding worse," he advised.

            Mournfully, tearfully, Smith countered, "I suppose you two will cause that soon enough anyway."

            Robinson pointed out, "You know, it's not as if you've never been punched before."

            "I haven't," contradicted Smith meekly.

            "In Mr. Miko's games? Little Geo? Blackened your eye?" Robinson reminded him.

            Smith appeared sheepish. "That...wasn't his...fist. It was his elbow. Caught me in the eye by accident. Merely a glancing blow. When I grabbed him from behind."

            Robinson and West both laughed aloud, this time without rancor.

            Smith nearly smiled in return, but then he once again turned sad and scared and horrified. "That horrible 'crack.' When you hit those aliens. That terrible sound!" He shuddered hard.

            "What of it?" West folded his arms and sat comfortably.

            "It...terrifies me."

            Robinson stated, "Believe me, if we hit you, the sound will be the least of your worries."

            Smith recommenced trembling violently and sobbing quietly. The two younger men shook their heads at him.

            Presently, he added, "That sound! And the rage in your eyes when you look at me that way! The shock and terror and pain of it all! I just know I can't bear it!"

            "Well, you'll have no choice," West told him matter-of-factly.

            "You'll have to bear it, so you will," agreed Robinson. "You'll manage to."

            "Barely!"

            Both cocked their heads at him. "Another pun?" asked Robinson.

            "Oh good heavens," Smith acknowledged in irritation. He went back to sobbing softly. "I wish that you gentlemen could feel some sympathy for how terribly frightened of you I am!"

            "We wish you could think ahead, and not do the foolish, greedy things that you do," Robinson countered. "You're always scheming about something."

            West added, "If we punish you, you'll deserve it."

            Then more time passed with no sound but Smith's crying.

            At length, Smith fussed irritably, "What's taking so long??"

            "Eager to get on with it, Smith?" West teased.

            "Eager to find out that you're not going to hurt me," he corrected desperately. Then he eyed them uncertainly. "How bad...? I mean, if...??"

            The men sat, observing him sardonically, forcing him to finish asking the uncomfortable question.

            "How bad are you going to hurt me?" Smith was scarcely audible.

            Robinson and West looked at each other, clearly deciding to play with him.

            "Depends on how many things go missing," Robinson decided.

            "One punch for every stolen item sounds about right," West suggested.

            "Ohhhh!!!" Smith moaned miserably, loudly. He buried his face in his hands.

            The other two could hardly suppress their laughter.

            More time passed with Smith crying quietly. At length, Robinson said, "Here she comes."

            From the corner of his eye, Smith observed Mrs. Robinson's arrival. Traumatized by utter terror, his eyes unfocused, and he gripped the edge of the table with both hands as she spoke.

            "Sorry it took so long. A great many things were out of place."

            Smith gasped through his nose, a sharp inhalation. Tremors assailed him.

            "It took quite a while to get everything back into place, so we could judge if anything was, in fact, missing."

            Smith squeezed his eyes tightly shut and shook violently.

            "Finally, we were able to figure out that nothing was actually missing."

            Unceremoniously, Smith's head dropped to the table with a thunk.

            Alarmed, Mrs. Robinson asked, "Dr. Smith, are you all right??"

            John Robinson and Don West unrestrainedly roared their laughter.