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Aeryn was walking through Moya on her nightly rounds. When she stuck her head into command, she thought she saw a figure silhouetted against the viewscreen. Quietly, she drew her pulse pistol and walked into the room, sticking to the shadows. As she got closer, the figure stepped out into the light.
“Hey, Baby.” There he was, in that soft blue shirt, and those faded pants he called genes.
Her heart nearly stopped. “John?”
He held his arms out to her, and after only the slightest hesitation, she holstered the pulse pistol and crossed the rest of the room. After a heartbeat, she put her arms around his neck and laid her face on his chest, staring off into the distant stars visible on the screen.
“I told you to go away,” she murmured.
“But you didn’t really mean it,” he said firmly.
“No,” she whispered. “I thought it would make it stop hurting. But I don’t know how to live like this.”
He looked down at her. “You’re being awfully hard on him.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I know. But what do you want me to do? Take up with him as if you’d never existed?”
“Hell, no! I’m as jealous as the next guy, even if I’m dead.”
That brought a small smile to her face.
“I’m not some possession you can bequeath to your next of kin,” she warned, despite his denial.
“You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you?” he grinned. “You’d deck me if I even suggested it.”
She let go of him then and stepped back slightly. “Then what ARE you suggesting? Because I can’t make any sense of what happened to you, to him, to both of you,” she confessed wistfully.
“Don’t try to make sense of it, Child,” a gentle voice spoke behind her. “Accept it as a gift.”
Zhaan’s voice was unmistakable. Aeryn whirled around without even drawing her weapon.
“I told you it was a bad trade, Zhaan,” she said. “Your life for mine. Look at the mess I’ve made of it.”
“You opened your heart to love, Aeryn. That is never wrong,” Zhaan told her.
John stepped around in front of her, reached his hand out and touched her cheek. “It’s never wrong, Aeryn.”
“But you died,” Aeryn told him plaintively.
“Honey, that wasn’t your fault. I had to be the frellin’ hero. It probably would have happened anyway if we hadn’t been together – and I would have had so much more to regret.”
“Do you miss me?” she whispered.
“Not half as much as I would have if we hadn’t been together.”
Aeryn looked over at Zhaan, and then back to John. “What did she mean, it’s a gift?”
John searched her eyes and then said, “You tell her, Blue. She won’t hear it from me. I tried already.”
“You have a second chance for happiness, Aeryn. Here, on this ship,” Zhaan told her.
“We all have second chances, Aeryn,” John said, tag teaming her.
“Yours is unique, Child. Crichton IS the man you lost.”
“But—“ she started, looking back and forth between her lost friend and her lost lover, tears glistening in her eyes.
John put his hands on her shoulders and smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay, you only have to let me go a little, Babe. Just get to know him again.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Then what?” she asked softly.
“That’s up to you and him, now isn’t it?” Zhaan said, and faded away, a smile on her face.
John kissed her gently then, and pointed her towards the view screen. “Show me which star is ‘Aeryn,’” he said.
She pointed towards the bright star in the center, and he nodded approvingly.
“Go on, now,” he said. “Live your life.”
“Just get to know him,” she whispered tentatively.
“That’s my girl,” John said, and vanished.
Aeryn blinked, and realized she must have been dozing. She was sitting on her bed, back against the wall. Her face was wet, and she wiped at it with the back of her hand.
John’s notebook sat in her lap. It was open to one of his star charts, the first one he’d shown her. She ran her fingers over the page, stopping on each star: Huey, Dewey, Louie – and Aeryn. Her eyes started to water again, but she sniffled and came to a decision.
Closing the book firmly, she stood up and went to wash her face and redo her braid.
* * *
A few minutes later she stood hesitantly in front of that other John’s door, notebook in hand.
She called out, “John?”
He didn’t answer, but appeared almost instantly. The look on his face was so wary it made her feel incredibly guilty, but she supposed she deserved it. “Aeryn?”
“I thought you might want this,” she said, handing the notebook to him.
He took it with surprise, looked at her with questioning eyes.
“If you have any questions about….about the star charts he made, I might be able to explain,” she offered.
She’d seen him cry often enough to know that tears were threatening; she hoped she hadn’t hurt him again. She watched him struggle with his feelings.
Finally he smiled, a hopeful, tentative smile. His voice was rough with emotion. “Would you like to show them to me, Aeryn?” he asked.
“I’d like that,” she said, stepping experimentally into his room.
