Return to Challenges Etc. Index
John had lost track of how long he'd been in this cell. Cross-hatches on the wall as a way of marking time were overrated, at least when the wall was smooth plastic, and, as best he could tell, nearly as hard as a diamond. Damn this place, anyway. He didn't even know why he was in jail, except that he'd evidently trespassed some major taboo on this backwater planet. Due process seemed to have no meaning here. He'd been too depressed when he got here to pay much attention to what was happening to him. Unfortunately, no one else knew he was on Furlan, so the best he could hope for now was that he'd serve out his time and they'd let him go. He was sure he'd been here at least a quarter cycle, but since he didn't know how long his sentence was -- if, indeed, he'd been officially sentenced -- that didn't help much.
Although they took him out into an exercise yard from time to time, he had little enough to occupy his time, so he had devised an elaborate exercise routine here in his cell. He hated to say it, but he was probably in the best shape of his life.
He was using the bars in the front of his cell to stretch against, when he heard the sound of shuffling feet and metallic clanking, as well as brisk, marching feet, coming his way. He knew from experience that that meant they were bringing a new prisoner to the cell just opposite his. It had been unoccupied for something approximating a monen now, he was pretty sure, since the previous occupant had been moved elsewhere, and his first reaction was glee that he would have someone to talk to besides Harvey. He was frankly getting very worried for his sanity.
He stifled the pleasure at someone else's misfortune, but nonetheless, he made no move to stand back from the bars, and tried to peer discreetly down the corridor to see who or what his new best friend was....
There was a red-uniformed guard in front, and one behind, both stocky, walrus-faced natives of Furlan. As the three figures moved down the corridor, he got occasional glimpses of the prisoner in between the guards. Sebacean size and build, dressed as he was in a dark coverall, with binders around the ankles accounting for the shuffling gait. A swing of dark hair, the sense of a woman's body, awkward with apparent pregnancy. Damn, these people were heartless if they treated a pregnant woman the way they'd been treating him.
The trio got closer, and he finally got a glimpse of her stoic face.
And his heart nearly stopped.
Aeryn. It was Aeryn. Oh, Baby, he thought.
He managed not to react outwardly, though he had to grip the bars more tightly to keep from swaying.
He knew the moment her eyes caught his that she was just as surprised as he was. There was no chance she had come to rescue him. But he saw the light of pleasure in her eyes to see him, however still she kept her face. Pleasure, and a flash of hope, quickly hidden.
Damn, they were pathetic. Still bound together after everything, still instinctively on the same wavelength. Don't give their captors any clues.
Fate, she had said. Fate would bring them together. Well, frell Fate, *he* was going to have to figure a way to get them out of there, all three of them.
The guards brought Aeryn to a halt almost near enough for him to reach through the bars and touch her. It took all his will power not to try.
One of the guards entered the codes to unlock the door of the cell opposite John's, and pulled it open with a clank. The taller of the two guards kept his weapon pointed at Aeryn as his companion knelt down and removed the binders from her ankles. She tossed her head, apparently casually shaking out her hair, but John could see her attention was completely on the guards, looking for any chance of making an escape.
Hands still gripping the bars on the door of his cell, John took advantage of the fact that she wasn't looking at him to look at *her*. His eyes took in every detail they could, hindered by the loose-fitting coverall that left very little of her body uncovered. Her dark hair was thick and shiny, and his fingers twitched, wanting to touch it. Her face and neck and hands looked a little thin, maybe a result of the...pregnancy? Although he didn't want to, his gaze kept straying to her stomach. Her belly seemed huge, compared, at least, to the non-pregnant image of her he kept in his heart. But she looked strong, and uninjured, and in good shape.
That was good.
He wouldn't have to kill anyone.
When her ankles were freed, the guards motioned her into the cell. Clearly having decided the odds were against her at that moment, she backed through the door, never taking her eyes off the guards. Her smirk promised that they wouldn't hold her long, but John had learned through experience that they were an unimaginative lot, so her bravado was probably wasted.
Aeryn's gaze followed the guards as they left the cell area, but John never looked away from her face.
When they were alone, she turned her attention towards him, studying his face in as much detail as he had earlier examined hers. She smiled in satisfaction, and he wondered how he looked to her. Leaner, probably, but not paler. He even had a bit of a tan, since he spent more time outside than he normally had on Moya. He'd been able to shave, but his hair was definitely longer. Just last weeken Harvey had asked if he was planning on turning it into a PK braid.... There was probably something Freudian there....
And he probably looked a lot more relaxed than the last time she had seen him. Three monens' solitude had given him a lot of time to think and sort things out. It had been hard to work on wormholes, because they wouldn't give him anything to write on or with. So he'd let astrophysics percolate in his subconscious, and he'd spent a lot of time thinking about Aeryn, and himself, and his twin. And one thing he knew for certain now was, no matter how much pain they'd inflicted on each other, intentionally or unintentionally, no matter how much still needed to be said and thrashed out, he wanted, no, he needed this woman in his life.
Mindful of the possibility they were being observed through the security cameras, John thought he ought to do the natural thing and introduce himself. "Hi," he said. "I'm John."
"Aeryn Sun," she said curtly, as she might to a stranger, but John had no trouble reading the warmth in her eyes. He dared to hope that she'd sorted some things out, too.
"What are you in for?" he asked.
Her expression would have looked surly -- at best -- to someone who didn't know her. "What are *you* in for?" she countered.
He shrugged. "Damned if I know. Littering? Chewing gum? Lopping the heads off parking meters? These people are pretty uncommunicative." The grin on his face belied his predicament and the monens of frustration. Some part of him was pissed as hell about it all, and some part of him blamed her for leaving him in the first place. But just at this moment, it was all worth it if it had put him in the right place at the right time to have Aeryn Sun standing right there in front of him once more.
Aeryn shrugged back. "About the same for me." She appeared to be thinking for a few microts, and then she asked, "How long have you been here?"
"About a quarter cycle," he told her, trying not to sound too vague. Now that she was here, it worried him that he couldn't be more specific about his time here.
She nodded, and then turned away from him and inventoried her cell. Like John's, it had a bunk that folded up into the wall to provide more space for movement, a sink and sanitary facilities, and a small table which also folded up into the wall. She looked back at John with the faintest of raised eyebrows.
I know, his look said. Nothing that could possibly be used as a weapon. He chewed on his thumb, thinking furiously.
As if reluctant to move further away from him after their time apart, Aeryn stayed at the front of her cell instead of moving to the bunk to sit down. She rested her forearms on her stomach, and that drew his attention unwillingly to the baby again. The other guy's kid. Nope, John, don't go there, he told himself. Time for that later.... Right now, think of a way to get us out of here.
But damn, she looked huge. Wait a minute.... He had to resist the urge to snap his fingers. Triumph in his eyes, he said, "You look like you're about ready to pop."
At this curious pronouncement, she stared at him with a mixture of exasperation and affection that made his breath catch in his throat. He bit his lip and stared into her eyes, as if he could pull her very soul to him. She never took her eyes from his, and her mouth twitched into a secret smile. Hopefully if anyone was watching the security cameras, they wouldn't notice. That thought brought his mind back to the present. He cleared his throat and asked more obviously, "When is the baby due? How much longer?"
The shrewd look in her eyes suggested she understood he had something in mind. "About a monen. I don't plan to be here when it's time."
He smiled and said softly, "I bet you don't." Well, what the hell, there was no time like the present to get this show on the road, before the guards got too comfortable back at their post. "Maybe you should sit down. You don't look so good."
She gave him an all-purpose glare, but he could read the question in her eyes: What do you want me to do, Crichton?
He shrugged. "Hey, all I'm saying is, you wouldn't want to go into labor in this dump even if they would probably take you to the infirmary."
This time her glare was a lot more specific. Her thoughts were as clear as if she'd spoken aloud: You're insane, you know. *That's* your plan?
He shrugged again, hiding a smile from the cameras, and went back and stretched out on his bunk.
Aeryn shook her head in apparent annoyance, and stalked with as much dignity as possible across the cell to lower her bunk from the wall. She settled herself in a seated position with her back against the wall for support.
After a little while, she hissed loudly and bent forward as if in pain, hands around her belly and head almost to her knees.
Alarmed in spite of himself, John sat up. "Hey! You okay over there?" He knew the worry came through in his voice.
She answered him with a moan and a This-was-your-idea-you-idiot glare, and he relaxed and settled into playing the scenario out.
"Hey," he yelled, waving his arms at the security camera. "Hey, we need help in here!"
Aeryn moaned again, more loudly, and tucked herself into a tighter ball, arms wrapped around her middle but her feet still solidly on the floor.
"Hey!" John yelled again. "I think she's having a baby! Help!" He was beginning to feel a little foolish when the door to their small cell bay opened, and one of the walrus boys entered. "There, look, look, she's in trouble," John said urgently.
The guard looked at John's agitated face, then over at Aeryn, still bent over forward in a ball, and called to her, "Are you okay?" She rocked forward a little without looking up, and moaned once more. Apparently she was convincing enough; the guard turned and latched the exit door open, then punched in the code for her cell. He opened the door and walked in, standing in front of her with his pulse weapon held loosely in one hand.
John stood in his cell, trying not to do anything that would make the guard or any observers suspicious, and hoping this was going to work. He could see Aeryn slide her hands back down her arms and lock her fingers together in a double fist.
When the guard bent forward slightly to put his hand on Aeryn's shoulder, she exploded. Her bent-over position allowed her to shove off powerfully with her feet. She brought her fists up into the unfortunate creature's mivonks with all the strength of her arms and her sheer physical movement.
The guard dropped silently, his weapon falling from his hands. Aeryn scooped up the gun in one hand and pointed it at him, but he was still trying to find his breath. Satisfied, she glanced briefly at John in his cell, and then down the corridor.
"No one's coming yet, hurry up!" John said.
Aeryn hauled the guard, who had managed to start breathing again, to his feet. "Out!" she snapped, shoving him towards the corridor with her free hand. He staggered out, looking plaintively at the security camera.
She grabbed him by the arm and propelled him into the corner that held the code readers for the cell doors. She jerked her head towards John, and ordered, "Open his door, now!"
When the guard hesitated, apparently beginning to be able think about something other than his pain, she jammed her gun into his side. "I said now," she snarled.
"Just blast the lock!" John called, anxiously. "His buddies will be here any minute!"
"I will if I have to," Aeryn replied, sparing John a quick look, " but I'm sure this one will be in less trouble with his superiors if we don't have to destroy a piece of expensive hardware to get out of here."
She'd apparently judged the guard correctly, because he hastily entered the appropriate code. When the cell door clicked open, John shoved it aside and stepped out into the short corridor.
Aeryn watched over the exit out of the cell bay while John grabbed the guard from her, shoved him into her empty cell and slammed the door shut. "Let's get the hell out of here!" he said.
At that moment the other guard came rushing up, waving his gun but not actually aiming it.
As if they'd never been apart, John and Aeryn turned simultaneously and kicked at him. John had a moment to be amazed that Aeryn's aim was as accurate as ever, despite the size of her belly, and then the guard went down and they were moving. Wanting to run interference for her, John took the lead as they rushed through the corridors together, shooting, kicking, shoving, dodging as needed. Aeryn's moves lacked her usual grace, but she kept up gamely. They never stopped until they reached the street and found a secluded spot to pause and extend their plan from 'Get out of jail' to 'Get off of planet.'
They stood for a few microts, panting with exertion. John examined Aeryn as casually as he could, worried about the baby after all the activity, but knowing she'd be annoyed if he fussed. She looked more tired than he'd expect normally, but she didn't seem to be hiding any pain, and he decided he'd just have to trust that she'd tell him if she was in trouble.
"Do you have a ship?" he asked her when he'd caught his breath, brushing a wayward strand of her dark hair out of her face, fingers lingering to trace her cheekbones.
"Impounded," she told him succinctly. She reached her hand to cup his cheek gently, then let it drop and continued speaking. "It would be easier to find something at the spaceport."
John nodded. "But we'd better get some transport. You shouldn't walk that far," he said, just barely managing to stop himself from adding, "...in your condition."
He thought for a moment she was going to argue with him but then she nodded. "It will be faster, too," she said.
He didn't bother arguing with her about excuses, just hot-wired a local groundcar while Aeryn watched his back.
* * * * * * * * * *
John and Aeryn sat quietly side by side in the cockpit of the transport they'd stolen. Aeryn had quickly lost their pursuit, and had the ship on autopilot now, heading on a roundabout course for the nearest commerce planet where they could obtain supplies. Beyond that, they hadn't made any decisions, or even talked.
"Well, that was a damn fine escape," John ventured finally, running the fingers of one hand through his hair.
"Mmmm," Aeryn murmured, studying her hands, or perhaps her stomach. And then she raised her head and looked him in the eyes. "It was what, a quarter of an arn, from the time I arrived until we were out on the street. Why were you there for a quarter of a cycle?"
John thought for a moment, wondering himself. "I suppose," he said softly, "that I just didn't have a reason to leave."
"Am I a reason?" she asked, her voice as soft as his.
He studied her eyes, her soul. He leaned forward slowly, took her face in his hands, and kissed her gently. Her lips parted and she traced his lips briefly with her tongue. Moving his face back only denches, he dared to ask, "What does that taste like?"
She brought her hands up and clasped his wrists tightly where his hands still held her cheeks. "Tomorrow," she whispered, tears glittering in her eyes.
He took a deep breath and leaned his forehead into hers. Tomorrow. It wasn't today, but it was a whole lot better than yesterday. Maybe he was deluding himself, but those tears looked a lot more like tears of joy than of grief to him. He looked in her eyes and assured her, "Tomorrow is fine. Tomorrow is good."
