![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
Return to Home Page Return to Epilogues Index |
|||||||||
Please e-mail Feedback to aeryncrichton | |||||||||
Guardian Rating: PG Setting: post-I Shrink Therefore I Am Spoilers: Through I Shrink Therefore I Am Summary: Aeryn discovers John's drug use and decides to deal with the problem. Aeryn Sun strode briskly through the corridor, heading for the food storage locker on Moya's hammond side, in search of some supplies Noranti wanted for dinner. When she heard loud voices from around a bend, she slowed to see if she could find out who or what was ahead of her. Two voices, one high-pitched, the other lower. The female voice was wheedling -- obviously Chiana. The male voice was growling, and after a few microts, she recognized it as Crichton's. With a pang and a sigh, Aeryn began mentally mapping out a new path to the food locker. There was no point in subjecting either herself or Crichton to another painful meeting that neither was ready for. And then Crichton roared, "Give it to me *now,* Chiana, or I swear, I'm going to..." There was absolute fury in his voice, and without another thought, Aeryn rushed around the corner to confront the pair. "What is going on here?" she demanded, even before she took in the sight of Crichton half-wrapped around the Nebari, trying to peel open the girl's fingers to remove something from her hand. Chiana was doing her best to get out of his grasp. Probably only the fact that Crichton was her friend had allowed him to get a solid grip on her in the first place. At the sound of Aeryn's voice, they both turned to look at her. Chiana looked guilty; Crichton still looked extremely angry. "Well?" Aeryn encouraged. Crichton struggled to get himself under control, and released Chiana. "It's nothing," he said stiffly. "She just snurched something of mine, that's all." "Give it back, Chiana," Aeryn said, automatically taking the human's side. Peeved, Chiana whined, "Ah, come on, Aeryn. He's got some drad new sniffing powder, and he won't share!" Aeryn looked from Chiana to Crichton, whose face might as well have been made of stone, and back again. "Let me see it, Chiana," she said, holding out her hand. The younger woman complied, depositing a small container in Aeryn's hand. As Aeryn stared at it, so did Chiana. She probably had snatched it without even getting a look at it earlier. "Must be pretty good stuff, as often as I see him use it," Chiana said. Aeryn looked at Crichton, her question plain on her face: What is it? He leaned his head back and examined the ceiling, and then, sullenly, he answered. "Distillate of Lakka." Aeryn blinked, not recognizing the name, but Chiana made a face. "What the frell do you want with that?" the Nebari asked. "You could have just told me what it was, I wouldn't have bothered you. It's not any fun." Crichton's hands were in his pockets and his jaw was clearly clamped shut, and so Aeryn looked to Chiana for explanations. "What does it do?" "It just makes you....I don't know, stand aside. No feelings." Aeryn's heart sank, guessing why he was using it. But before she could react, Chiana continued with her pharmacological explanation. "It's bad dren. It's bad for your brain cells, and it's addictive, too...." She looked at Crichton suddenly and tilted her head. "Ah, frell, John." Crichton stared defiantly at the two women. As quickly as that, Aeryn's mood shifted from guilt to anger. She glared at Chiana and said, "Leave. Now." Chiana glanced at Crichton, then searched Aeryn's face. "Right," she told Aeryn, daring to reach out and pat her encouragingly on the arm. Then the Nebari turned and scurried down the hallway. In the silence, Crichton and Aeryn stood perhaps a motra apart, glaring at each other. The only sound was their breathing. Finally, John pulled a hand out of his pocket and held it out to her. "Can I have my property back, please, teacher?" She closed her fingers on the drug. "No," she said, searching his eyes for some hint that he understood what he was doing to himself. He shook his head and said, annoyed, "Dammit, Aeryn, you're not my nursemaid." Frustrated and frightened, she let her anger loose on him. "Have you lost your mind? It's *addictive*!" "You just said it, Aeryn, it's *my* mind. I'll do what I want." "You are a *scientist*, John Crichton, your frelling mind is who you are! It's how you got here, and it's how you'll get home, if you want to do that! Your inferior human mind is what keeps us all alive, and it's what," and she faltered briefly, "it's what made me love you." They stared at each other again, John still stone, Aeryn breathing hard and holding back tears that threatened. When Crichton still said nothing, Aeryn finished, "If that doesn't matter to you any more, I have to accept that. But I will *not* allow you to come to harm, not even of your own doing." He reacted to that. His face softened just a little, and he chewed on his lower lip, obviously thinking something over. He blinked, then nodded once. "You're right," he said softly. "Get rid of it." Aeryn nodded in relief, even as he turned to leave. When he'd gotten a few steps away, Aeryn took a deep breath and called, "John?" He stopped and turned his head around, just enough so he could see her. She nodded towards the twist of powder in her hand. "Where did you get it?" Crichton let out a deep breath, and cocked his head to one side almost shyly. "Granny," he said, embarrassed. "I sure as hell should have known better." He wiped his face with his hand and looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead he turned around again and continued walking. Aeryn's eyes narrowed but she let him go, satisfied that he would deal with the problem. Now *she* had a problem to deal with. * * * * * * * * Aeryn stalked into the kitchen without the food she'd originally gone to fetch. When Noranti looked up from the steaming pot she was stirring, Aeryn tossed the drug packet she'd confiscated from John at the old woman. It bounced off her forehead, missing her third eye, and landed on the floor. Noranti looked down at it and up again at Aeryn, mild inquiry in her face. "You will *not* give Crichton any more of this," Aeryn ordered. "Crichton wants--" began Noranti, but Aeryn cut her off. "What Crichton wants doesn't matter, not in this. If you so much as go within five motras of him from now on, I will personally put you out the nearest air lock, and I will not look back. Do I make myself clear, old woman?" "All right," Noranti said mildly. Aeryn looked at her suspiciously. "No other drugs, powders or potions, either," she insisted. "I am not joking about the air lock." "No," the old woman beamed. "I'm sure you're not." Disconcerted, Aeryn warned, "I will not allow you to harm him, or aid him in harming himself." She turned and walked away with measured steps, not trusting herself in the mystic's presence. The old woman smiled broadly at Aeryn's retreating figure and went back to stirring the pot on the stove. |
|||||||||
![]() |
|||||||||
The End |