When Skies are Gray 2/2
Infirmary:
Aeryn awoke groggily sometime late in the ship's sleep period. Her
eyelids were doubly weighted with fatigue and the effects of Zhaan's
potions. And yet ... at first she wasn't sure what had pulled her
from a profound slumber, but soon she glimpsed a shadow lurking in
the chamber's darkened corner. A man-shaped form, just within her
peripheral vision, shifted as she stirred.
"John..." she murmured softly, attempting to turn her sleep-heavy
head.
The shadow detached itself and drifted quietly to her bedside.
"Shhh... don't try to move. Just rest. It's okay, baby." Crichton
whispered, gently stroking a tendril of hair from her pale face. He
had lurked in the darkness for some time, struggling with the desire
to leave her in peace and the driving need to be near her.
Aeryn yawned sleepily, then shifted restlessly on the infirmary cot.
"Zhaan... gave me...mmm...sleepy..." she frowned as her thoughts
fragmented and drifted away.
"She gave you something to make you sleep. Shhh ... I know." He
chuckled softly. "Doesn't seem to be working too well though." He
traced the arching line of her dark brows with feather-light
fingertips.
"Miss you..." she breathed as her eyes drifted shut. She roused again
determinedly and caught the hand that caressed her brow, tucking it
against her cheek before slipping back into sleep.
Crichton wished, for a second, that time would stop, trapping them
both in that moment forever. Then he snorted at his own folly.
Stroking her silky, dark hair with his free hand, he began to sing
softly:
"You are my Sunshine, my only Sunshine. You make me happy when skies
are gray..."
~*~*~*~*~*~
Moya, three solar days later:
Aeryn walked slowly down the corridor leading to crew quarters. She
hesitated at the entrance to the cell, uncertainty freezing her in
place. Muttering a heartfelt, "Frell," under her breath, she inhaled
sharply, pulled herself to full Peacekeeper attention and strode into
the chamber.
The room's occupant regarded her with surprise. A very tense moment
passed before the young Nebari rose from the chamber's bed and
approached her tall shipmate.
Chiana had always felt ... intimidated by the physical presence of
the striking Sebacean. Aeryn had always seemed so self-assured, so
absolutely confident of her place and value. The young Nebari had
always secretly envied Aeryn's wiry strength and lithe grace, not to
mention her ability to draw male attention without seeming to try or
to even notice.
The little thief thought wryly, 'Gah, it's not just Crichton, even
Pilot loves her!' Then she remembered all that the ex-Peacekeeper had
been through in the last quarter monen, and decided to be friendly
... if Aeryn would let her.
"So ... hiya Aeryn. I'm glad you're feelin' better; we were all real
worried." Forgetting her earlier intentions, the young Nebari slyly
added, "Had Crichton really scared, y'know?"
"Thank you, Chiana," Aeryn said, pointedly ignoring the Nebari's last
comment. "It's good to be ... well." She glanced down at the floor
wondering how to broach the matter at hand.
The pause stretched to an uncomfortable silence.
"So...?" Chiana tilted her head, curious as to what was on the other
woman's mind. She had an idea, but knew that the situation had to be
pretty grim if the former PK commando was turning to *her* for help.
Aeryn gathered her courage. "Ummm, Chiana, I was wondering... that
is," she paused and then sighed heavily, "if I could borrow...umm
forget it..." She quickly turned to go.
"No, wait, Aeryn. What's up?" Chiana gave her shipmate her most
guileless expression. Inside she was laughing with glee. 'Oh, this
was going to be fun!'
"Frell. I can't believe I'm doing this." Aeryn muttered under her
breath. "I'm sorry, Chiana, it's nothing really, a mistake..."
"Aeryn, it's important if you came here." She smirked at the ex-
Peacekeeper. "You despise me. Admit it." Chiana lifted her chin and
peered up at her tall, poised shipmate.
"No!" Aeryn denied quickly, "Not despise. It's just - I just...
I...don't like women who-" she blew out her breath in frustration."-
use their bodies to manipulate others." Aeryn said baldly. "I'm
sorry, but I just don't understand it." She shook her head in
confusion.
Chiana squinted and cocked her head to one side. "But using a pulse
rifle to do the same thing is okay?" A slow, mocking smile crossed
her lips.
"It's not the same at all! It's more... honest, it's
straightforward." Aeryn couldn't believe she was standing here
arguing philosophy with this ... this tralk! 'Frell you, Crichton,
for driving me to this.'
Chiana scoffed, "Yeah, straightforward. So, why're you here?" She
enjoyed frustrating the Sebacean every chance she got. It was
childish, she knew, but what the draz.
"Forget it, I said it was a mistake." The taller woman snapped.
Chiana knew Aeryn was at the end of her patience. Time to reel her
in, easy as that. "It's about Crichton, isn't it?"
Aeryn's normally impassive face registered guilty surprise. "Wha-?"
She shook her head in denial. "Of course not...!"
Chiana raised her eyebrow and smirked knowingly.
"Fine! It's just ... difficult, y'know. I ... he ... we ... its
difficult," Aeryn finished lamely. She scowled at her boot tips,
hating to be vulnerable to anyone, especially someone like Chiana.
"It doesn't have to be." Chiana purred. "Just listen to your body. It
knows *exactly* what to do." She chuckled. "So does his. Easy."
"For you, perhaps." Aeryn said resentfully, secretly almost envious
of the other woman's easy sexuality. She admitted it would certainly
make her own life less complicated, but she also knew that route, in
this case, was impossible.
She sighed in defeat. "He won't talk to me. The frelling Human won't
even look at me! I..." Aeryn scowled, desperately trying to hide her
pain from the Nebari.
Chiana tilted her head, intrigued. "So, what did you have in mind?"
~*~*~*~*~*~
John Crichton sat dejectedly on his bed, elbows resting on bent
knees, staring at an object in his hands. He tried to take a breath,
but the constant aching pressure in his sternum made that impossible.
He hadn't been able to take a decent breath since he came back to his
senses in the cockpit of his Module. Icy terror had gripped his heart
as he watched her plummet to the snow fields below.
"I hope you meant what you said in the neural cluster ... I did." Her
final words echoed in his mind, torturing him with their incipient
promise. 'Promise,' he mocked himself. 'You killed her. The only good
thing you've ever found out here in frelling-Wonderland, and you
killed her.' He fiercely quashed the quiet voice that whispered she
wasn't gone. 'She is for me. I only seem to hurt her. It's better
this way.' She had tried to approach him, tentatively, but he felt so
... filthy, so completely unworthy to even look into her eyes.
Her eyes. A cold shiver skittered across his shoulders and settled
into his heart as he conjured up a memory of gazing into her eyes,
soft and unguarded, thinking that he had finally found a home. A safe
place to shelter from the turbulent whirlwind that was his pathetic
excuse for a life. 'Not for you, Johnny-boy. Best get used to it.' He
sighed and focused on the object in his fingers.
Engrossed in his inner thoughts, he didn't hear the tap on the door.
It repeated, slightly louder and with more authority. John looked up
and frowned. He shook his head. "Nobody's home."
The door swooshed open and Aeryn stepped in. She was wrapped in a
silky, silvery robe that slid over her curves in a sensual fall.
Crichton abruptly lost the ability to breathe at all. Her glorious
raven hair shone in the soft light of his chamber, falling across her
shoulders and down her back. He hadn't seen her hair down like that
in ages. He loved her hair. His fingers tingled with a fierce longing
to slide through those silken tresses. Once more, just once more. He
quickly diverted his attention to his hands, completely avoiding any
eye contact. One look into her eyes and he was lost, and he knew it.
By avoiding her glance, he also avoided the hesitant look of
vulnerability that crossed her face and then settled into a frown
creasing her forehead. Aeryn bit her lip uncertainly as she closed
the door and pulled the privacy curtain. 'Frell.' she thought. She
glanced down at her robe in consternation. Had he even noticed?
'Frell. Frell. Frell. I shouldn't have done this. He doesn't want me,
he didn't mean it; it wasn't real. This was a mistake.' Aeryn's
doubts and uncertainties spun through her head at dizzying speed.
'Stop it.' She told herself sternly. 'You've committed yourself to
this, get on with it.'
"John?" She ventured hesitantly. Crichton continued to toy with
something in his hands, ignoring her. "Crichton," she said
assertively, "look at me." She licked her lips and took a few steps
forward into the room.
"What do you want, Aeryn?" Crichton's voice sounded rusty, either
from emotion or disuse, she wasn't sure. He sounded so tired, so
defeated. Aeryn's heart contracted painfully; it hurt her to witness
his utter dejection.
Gathering her dignity, and her robe, around her, she raised her chin
and announced, "I want to talk."
John squeezed his eyes closed and tilted his head against the wall.
"Nothin' to talk about, Aeryn. Just run along, I'm fine." 'No, no,
no, no, no!' a desperate voice in his mind screamed, 'don't go. Don't
leave me. I need you!' The human lifted his head and opened weary,
bloodshot eyes. "Get out of here Aeryn, just, just go."
Aeryn was nothing, if not determined. She closed the distance between
them and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to lightly touch
his arm. She felt him stiffen slightly, but pushed on. "I meant what
I said in neural cluster."
Crichton closed his eyes and tried to ignore the warm, living,
breathing, beautiful woman sitting next to him. God help him, he
could smell her unique fragrance. For the first time in days, the
tightness in his chest loosened and he could breathe again. He
inhaled deeply, smelling the sweetness of her scented hair and the
warm, comforting undertone that was simply Aeryn herself.
John shuddered. Aeryn leaned forward, intent on reaching him, holding
him, only to be pulled up short by the sleeve of the robe. She was
sitting on the bell of the sleeve's deep length. "Frell," she
muttered, trying to free it.
At her curse, John opened his eyes and looked at her. He took in the
deep curving neckline, the mesmerizing view offered by the low-cut
robe, the perfect lines of her collarbone, and that sweet, sweet dip
at top of her shoulder. He abruptly lost the ability draw air again.
He watched with interest as she struggled to free the length of
cloth, muttering under her breath, "Stupid, stupid, frelling
tralk...." As the absurdity of the situation struck him, John
couldn't help it, he started to laugh.
Aeryn went perfectly still. Her strong, distinctive profile became
frozen. Taking a few careful breaths, she looked at Crichton almost
accusingly and then stood. "I'm sorry. This was a mistake." A look of
shame and disappointment flitted across her face as she began to turn.
"No! Aeryn, please, no. Don't go." Crichton's heart was beating
furiously as panic blossomed across his features. He raised his hand
toward her and grasped the trailing edge of her wayward sleeve.
"Please." He gazed up at her with naked longing in his sky-blue eyes.
He wet his lips hesitantly, "It's not you, I just, I..." He shook his
head and offered her a crooked smile, "Nice dress."
A wry smile teased her lips. "What, no 'Shazam?' I borrowed it from
Zhaan, but Chiana actually picked it out. That, in itself, should
have earned at least a 'huppa huppa' from you, Crichton," she said
with mock bitterness.
John slid his hand along her sleeve and clasped her hand, pulling her
willingly toward him. "That's 'hubba hubba, Aeryn, and that in no way
even comes close to expressing how *good* you look to me." He stood,
taking both of her hands and holding them to his heart. "You are so
beautiful," he whispered in aching wonder.
Aeryn looked into his face and read the sincerity of his words. She
suddenly felt light-headed with relief. Giving him a brilliant smile,
she turned her hands, intent on clasping his to her. She frowned as
she noticed a tickling sensation across her right palm and looked
down.
"What's this?" She asked curiously, opening Crichton's left hand. He
immediately attempted to close his palm.
"Uh, noth... nothing." He pulled his hand back as he glanced down.
"Nothing important."
Concerned at the hectic flush which suddenly flared across his
cheeks, Aeryn caught his left wrist and deftly turned it over. "Show
me," she coaxed softly.
Crichton knew he was caught and reluctantly opened his fist. "It's
just ... umm, I can explain..." In his palm lay a length of dark
hair, tied in the middle with a bit of string.
Aeryn touched it, confused at its purpose. She glanced up at Crichton
to see him biting his lip sheepishly. As understanding dawned, her
hand flew involuntarily to her own hair and looked to Crichton for
confirmation. "When...?"
Crichton touched a finger to the silky length and then reached to
smooth a lock at the side of her face. "When I thought..." he trailed
off uncertainly. "When I thought I had lost you, it was like the
whole world just ... stopped making sense. All I could think was that
I wouldn't ever see you, touch you, again. I just- I needed
something to hold onto. So, I cut a lock of your hair. To hold onto.
It's a Human thing." Blushing furiously, he half-heartedly extended
his hand. "Umm, you can have it back ... if you want it."
Aeryn poked at the length of hair, a perplexed expression on her
face. Then she shook her head and gave Crichton the patented I-don't-
understand-you look. "No, you keep it." She closed his fist over the
item and then met his eyes tenderly. "I like the idea of you carrying
around a small piece of me with you."
His eyes darkened as they dilated slightly. He watched his hand slide
down her jaw to caress the graceful, white column of her neck. "I
hope you know," he whispered as he traced the lines of her
collarbone, "that you carry the very best part of me with you." He
dipped his head forward and breathed over the surface of the skin he
had just touched. "You will always own my heart." He slipped his hand
behind her ear and brought his lips to hers for a sweet, lingering
kiss. John opened his mouth to welcome her warm, questing tongue as
the kiss deepened with mutual desire.
The need for oxygen drove them apart a long while later. Aeryn bit
her lip in uncertainty as she trailed her hand down John's arm. "Do
you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked wistfully.
John Crichton smiled as he pulled her down to the bed below. "You
take my breath away, Aeryn Sun." And for a short time, at least, a
sense of peace filled their hearts.
***
Author's note: Insulin shots will be available upon request. :P
~An'hayla