THREE YEARS Part 2

by Eli

Disclaimer:  I don't own Farscape . . . . yet
Rating: Some violence, small adult situation stuff, I'll up it to PG-13, just
to be safe
Summary: Well, here's the second part, John's dead, Aeryn's . . . recovering,
don't kill me for that.
Feedback: As always, very important. VERY important.  Ponine022@cs.com
Plea For No Death Threats:  So many shippers are going to want to kill me for
this one, I'm so sorry, it had to be done.  I'm as devoted as anyone to John
and Aeryn though, things should work themselves out.

---

    Aeryn Sun stirred in her sleep, a restless moving of one who has not
peacefully dreamed in a long time.  Three cycles to be precise.  Strong arms
wrapped lovingly around her moving body, immediately stilling her while lips
pursed gently against her ear, pleading with her to just let herself relax
and melt into the warm body next to hers.
    Sometimes if she closed her eyes tightly enough, changed how she heard
the voice, the way this man held her, then she felt him just beyond her
imagining.  Then she felt John.
    Aeryn lay still for a quarter of an arn, waiting for the man next to her
now to fall back into a deep sleep, and when he did she flipped over to face
him.  Aeryn drew a hand across his bronzed features and ran her slim fingers
through his downy hair, dark as her own.  He responded to her touch
unconsciously, a small smile forming on his lips.  She smiled too as her hand
fell to rest softly on his chest, remembering all this man had done for her,
and how, despite herself, she cared for him.  She closed her eyes, forcing
thoughts of a deeper caring for another man away.  No matter how many times
she tried to convince herself that John was gone, that she was over all the
unresolved feelings and unsaid words, she would fall back into her familiar
patterns.  And so she instead filled her mind with memories of the dreaming
man next to her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    Aeryn woke from an uneasy and troubled sleep, haunted by nightmares
filled with unseen dangers, frightening things she could neither comprehend
nor combat.  She was drenched in sweat, hair plastered to her damp brow.  She
shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thrust of the dream, which had
been the same for almost two cycles . . . . Crichton was gone.
    The specifics varied, how, when, where constantly changed, but the
message of the dreams were redundant, but meaningful.  Tonight, however, had
been remarkably different, tonight she herself had been the one to do it, the
details vague but disturbing.  She and John had been lying in bed together,
in this dream, turned on her side, her back to his front, he was brushing the
hair away from her ear and whispering softly words she had so longed for, but
never heard, or said herself.  And then, as if watching from somewhere
outside the entire scene, she saw herself grab a small dagger from the place
she kept it under the bed.  She turned and smiled to him, a sick grin of a
sadistic mind hiding behind the seemingly innocent gesture.  John reached
forward stroking the side of her face, leaning in to plant a light kiss on
her lips.  He never got the chance, she'd . . . she'd . . .
    Aeryn stood, refusing to accept what she had seen and felt so intimately.
 She left the room, wanting to be as far from the site of the imagined events
as possible.  It was the middle of the night and no one aboard Moya was
awake, or at least up and about.  That was good, right now, more than
anything, she just needed to be alone.  Yet there was still that voice just
to the back of her mind that told her she should go talk to someone, and that
someone was Pilot.  Aeryn and the ship's symbiot had developed a unique bond
before Crichton's disappearance but Aeryn's sense of loss and need for
support had only strengthened that relationship.  She began making her way to
Pilot's den, but halfway there, she was interrupted.
    "Officer Sun, I'm sorry to disturb you, but there is a small vessel
approaching, would you please report to command."
    "On my way."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    That was the day he'd come, not the day everything had changed, no, it
had taken her a while to accept him.  She had no doubt he'd stayed on Moya
solely for her, to remain even though he could have been happy elsewhere.
But no, he loved her, and Samis had stayed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    He has the most beautiful eyes.  Aeryn found herself thinking as Samis
sat near her, catching her gaze from time to time as he looked up from his
food.  It was strange how . . .connected she felt to him after only a few
short monens.  She denied it, though, it always felt like betrayal to
Crichton.  Yet there was something about Samis that stirred within her things
she could not hide from herself.
    A political refuge, leaving his position after being implicated falsely
in a crime.  She could admire that.  It took great courage to see one's
people treated unjustly and stand up against it.  Samis was not like the rest
of them, however.  He was only on the run from his own Sebacean government,
the PeaceKeepers were not involved in his crime, or his perusal.  He could
have left Moya at any time, but he chose not to, and it was obvious to the
entire crew that Aeryn was the cause.
    So lost in thought as she was, Aeryn did not notice that Samis had moved
from his position across the table and was now standing behind her, one hand
lightly placed on her shoulder.
    "You're lost again." He spoke, his soft, even voice not without humor.
    "Hmm." She replied, allowing him to remain close.  Their uneasy
relationship had not yet become official by any means, but small affections
between them were common.  He sat next to Aeryn now and ran his fingers
softly through her hair.
    "What about?" He questioned, a slight concern thumping around in his
chest.  Samis was rather accustomed to Aeryn's all to often fragile grip on
reality.  He had never known John Crichton, but from the crew's accounts and
Aeryn's perpetual sadness over his loss led Samis to believe Crichton had
been a truly remarkable man.  Whenever Aeryn got this way, he would gently
push her, but almost never received an answer.  She reached up and took his
hand in her own, intwining their fingers.
    "The usual."  She sighed and managed a weak smile.
    "No, this isn't the usual, please tell me."
    "Two cycles.  Today."  She breathed, looking away from him.
    "Two cycles?"  He questioned, his green eyes begging her back.
    "John, today, he's been gone two cycles.  And it still hurts like he's
been gone two days."  Long ago Aeryn had retrained herself not to cry openly
about her pain, but the subject of John's death always caused her eyes to
glisten with unshed tears.
    "Are you going to be all right?  If you need to talk to me, or anything
at    all . . ."
    "I know, Samis, you'll be there."  Aeryn smiled again, causing Samis's
breath to catch visibly.  She knew how he felt, it was obvious.  She also
knew she could trust him indefinitely, he'd proven himself once and again,
Samis had a way of making her feel so comfortable she believed at times, that
she could tell him anything.  "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."
    Samis smiled, warming her heart in a familiar glow.  Before he could
react, she had leaned into him, causing the lightest brush of her lips
against his.  It caused his heart to race wildly at their closeness as well
as her action.  Aeryn move back a bit but, against her better judgment, moved
back in, this time causing no interpretation to her meaning as she kissed him
hard.  He had responded, of course, a bit reluctantly at first, but more
eagerly as she had deepened the kiss, as well as their relationship.
    And that had been the beginning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    Samis's eyes snapped open as he heard Aeryn sigh softly.  He smiled and
pulled her close.
    "Come her, kaya." He said, using his pet name for her.  Crichton would
have likened the small animal Samis referred to, to an Earth "kitten".  Aeryn
complied and snuggled deeper into his warmth.  "You thinking again?"  He
mumbled into her dark hair.  She sighed and lifted her head from the crook of
his neck to face him.
    "Yes, but just about you."  She smiled.
    "Good thoughts, I hope."
    "Always."  He smiled bigger and moved towards her, kissing her lightly
before he sighed and rolled onto his back pulling her with him.
    "Gods, you're a liar."
    "What?!" She sat up with an indignant cry and punched his muscled chest.
He laughed and grabbed her waist, pulling her back down.
    "I'm just saying," He began, taking her hand in his own and planting a
quick kiss on her forehead.  "that you were not thinking any such thoughts
about me.  Your mind is preoccupied with thoughts of John."
    She winced at the slight humoring annoyance in his tone.  "Are you mad?"
    "Of course not," he stood and started walking around the room, putting on
his clothes that scattered the floor.  "I accepted long ago that I could
never quite capture your soul, that always belonged to him," he continued,
leaning over the bed once he finished dressing.  He kissed her lightly again.
 "But as long as I've got your body, I'm happy."  He finished, smiling
mischievously.  She slapped at him playfully, but he caught her hand.
    "Where are you going?"
    "It's my shift, I have to go to command."  Without warning she threw her
arms around his neck and kissed him soundly before shooing him on his way.
    "Hurry back."  Aeryn teased as she watched Samis leave their quarters,
but he hung back at the door, looking deeply into her eyes with his soft
green gaze.
    "He loved you, you know, more than anything.  He still loves you,
wherever he is." Samis smiled once more and left the room before he could see
Aeryn's eyes beginning to tear.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    "Hs'to, n'kl ojbont.  N'kl, n'kl."  The man was shoved roughly out of his
cell of three cycles by what he could only assume was a guard.  He couldn't
understand, but it did not bother him now, not after what seemed to be a
lifetime of miscomprehension.  He was shoved again, more roughly this time.
The man tripped over the chains that held his feet, he was unable to brace
himself against the fall for his hands were bound as well.  He landed hard
and was immediately kicked in the stomach, then hauled roughly to his feet.
    "K'rep, dahl-no, was'bt."  The guard sneered.  That this man understood.
The "was'bt" part at least.  At best guess it meant "alien" or "outsider".
He chuckled to himself, 'more than you know'.
    The guard dragged him along once more, down corridor after corridor.
They finally entered a large room with many vessels of various design.
Everything from PeaceKeeper marauders to what looked like flying junk heaps.
And there, on a platform, inside a long green tube with white rings at equal
intervals was -
    "The transport!" the man cries as he moved forward only to be tripped up
again.  And again he was hauled up to his feet and thrown roughly into the
familiar pod.  His bindings were removed, but the guard kept his weapon
trained at him.
    "Dahl-no, was'bt.  Aktway, sl'I topl-rftin.  Dahl-no." he pointed toward
the helm and the man responded running to the familiar instruments, oblivious
that the guard had left.  Then there was the odd sensation of moving, but not
moving at the same time.  Lights pulsed around him and then the moving
sensation became more tangible.  Green-white-green-white-green-white, it
continued in that pattern for arns upon arns while the console remained
unresponsive.
    But then, there was a sharp left turn in his path and then blackness
enveloped the man and the pod.  A warm peacefulness came over him, for some
reason he was not afraid.  Anything was better than that hell he'd been
living in for the past three cycles.
    But then his eyes caught something far off in the star field.  Small and
distant, but the unmistakable shape of a familiar leviathan was clearly
there.  Tears of joy and relief streamed down the man's face as John Crichton
realized he was home.