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Meet the Baby
Two Steps Forward...
She'd been remarkably lucky when she left Moya. She'd found a quiet planet on which to begin to rebuild her shattered heart and life, had come to realize how much she wanted the baby growing within her, even though she hadn't the slightest idea how to raise a child. And most importantly, she'd realized how big a hole there was in her life without John Crichton. She'd come to accept that she needed to know where he was, how he was, if he was all right. She needed to have him in her life, in whatever capacity he'd allow. And so two weekens ago she'd headed her prowler in search of Moya, arriving shortly before John and the rest of the crew had returned from an adventure of their own.
As it happened, John had climbed out of his module and caught sight of her, standing nervously in the docking bay, before the others actually made it down the ramp of D'Argo's ship. She watched him go still, as though he might have been thinking of turning around and climbing right back into his module. She was too afraid to move, afraid anything she did would send him out the side door that connected to the maintenance bay, away from her.
But instead of avoiding her, he made directly for her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the others, some familiar, some not, emerge from D'Argo's ship while she studied John as he walked. He was so thin. His black t-shirt bagged, and the leather pants didn't fit as they once had. It made her heart ache just to look at him. Obviously the past monens had been much less kind to him than they had been to her. When he stopped just inside her reach, the cautious look in his eyes made her heart jump and her eyes tear up.
She bit her lip, smiled crookedly, and breathed, "Hello, John." The minute the words were out of her mouth, she remembered their last reunion, but she couldn't call them back, and anyway, she wasn't sure what else to say.
"Hey," he said, and looked directly at her stomach, flat under the silky black tank top, and then up again into her eyes.
He knew. Hezmana knew how he did, but he knew. The unspoken question was unmistakable: Where's my baby?
She was stunned, and relieved at the same time. When she knew she had to find him again, she'd been terrified of this moment, terrified of having to tell him she'd borne another man's child. And now it appeared there was no need, either to tell him, or to fear his reaction.
She looked over his shoulder at the others, milling uncomfortably, and then smiled at John. She held a hand out to him and said, "Come with me?"
He let out a huge breath, and bowed his head momentarily, chin to his chest. When he lifted his head again, the furrows had left his face, and there was something like a smile trying to escape through his eyes.
Neither one of them said a word as they walked to her quarters hand in hand. At the door, she let him go and ran the fingers of one hand through her hair. John was all nervous tension, and she simply opened the grille and let him walk in.
She followed his hesitant steps as he walked across the room, to stand in front of her bed and stare down at the tiny creature sleeping in the middle of it. She stood next to John, feeling his presence acutely.
She could hear his breath catch, and when she looked at his face, she saw tears. He looked at her then, and she whispered to him, "My son." After a brief pause she added, "He's one monen old today."
The baby was wrapped in a blanket, sleeping on his back, and John studied his face. The infant's hair was dark, his pink cheeks were chubby, his lashes were long. There wasn't really much else to see while he was asleep, but long microts ticked by while John looked at the child. When he turned back to Aeryn, his expression was cautious. "My son?" he asked.
She understood what he was asking; it was the one question she had hoped he would ask. John would have wanted his son to have a father, this father, and so did she. Tears in her eyes, she gave him the answer she'd decided on when she made the decision to come back. "If you want him to be."
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and said simply, "I want." He looked back down at the baby.
She wasn't sure if that declaration included her or just the child, but it was a start. She nodded, and reached her hand out to touch his upper arm. She reveled in the familiar electricity as she ran her fingers down his arm, but John jerked his shoulder back, pulling away from her.
Aeryn dropped her hand to her side and looked at him, hurt despite her understanding that he had every right to be angry with her. "I'm sorry," she said, hardly noticing how stricken he looked. "I didn't mean to...."
John cut her off, shaking his head and waving his hand at her. He took a deep breath and looked back at the baby, perhaps drawing strength as he once had from her. He reached out and took Aeryn's hand between his and said, "It's okay. You didn't do anything."
Frowning, she searched his eyes. She saw distance there, but also, she fancied, love. He loved her beyond hope, he had said the day she left, and it seemed it was still true, however wounded he was. That would have to be enough for now. Her mouth twitched in a rueful smile.
And then he completely surprised her.
He took her face in his hands, and leaned forward to kiss her.
Something in her stomach fluttered, and she wasn't sure she was ready, but she closed her eyes and waited for the touch of his lips on hers. It seemed to take forever, and she wondered if he was hesitating, or time was slowing down, but she was afraid to open her eyes, afraid he wouldn't be there if she did. And then his mouth was on hers, lips pressing gently, warmly, delicately. A loving kiss, with the hope of passion to come in the future.
It was just what she needed. She slid her arms around his waist and held him tight, kissing him back, running her tongue lightly across his lips.
He let go of her face then and kissed her lips once again, then the corners of her mouth, and her forehead. He nuzzled her nose, and she nuzzled back, content to be this close to him, feel his heart beating. She could have stayed there all day.
She heard him sigh contentedly, and he pulled back and looked at her, examining her face. He opened his mouth to say something, when there was a soft noise from the bed.
They both looked at the baby, who was stretching his tiny limbs in the loosely-wrapped blanket and blinking his dark eyes.
John grinned and said, "He's awake!"
"Sit!" Aeryn commanded, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. She sat down next to him and reached for the baby, scooping him up in her arms and trying to arrange his blanket.
She was awkward, and she knew it, but John said softly, "You're pretty good at that."
She smiled at him and held the baby out to him. There was a moment of uncertainty as she moved one way and he reached the other, but the transfer was made.
John ran a finger down the baby's cheek, smiling as the infant turned his head, rooting for food. "Oh-oh," he said.
"You can hold him a while longer," she told him. "He's not awake enough to eat yet. He's much louder when he's hungry." She'd learned that much about this tiny life she'd created.
She smiled as she watched John cuddle the baby in his arms. Absently, she trailed her fingers along his thigh, and his head came up and he shivered slightly in a way that puzzled her. The set of his jaw told her she would get no explanation, and indeed, he diverted her attention back to the baby with a question.
"What's his name?"
"Yoda," she told him impishly, determined to break the tension.
"Aeryn, you didn't!" he said, aghast.
She laughed then, looking at the expression on his face, and he slowly realized she had been joking with him.
A little more of the tension went out of his body, and he said, "Well, I can't just call him Hey You."
She looked down at the baby for a moment and then took a deep breath and looked up at John from under her lashes. "I was hoping you'd help me choose a good name," she said softly.
John closed his eyes and said, "Thank you." He opened them again and looked at her. "I didn't think you wanted me to be a part of the baby's life...." He trailed off, leaving "or yours" unspoken.
"When I left," she said around the lump in her throat, "I didn't know what I wanted. I had to go. I'm sorry." And then she took a deep breath and said more strongly, "He needs both of us."
John drew a shaky breath and said, "Damn straight! Who else is going to teach him to quote the Three Stooges!"
"That's *your* job," she agreed with glance down at the baby, who was beginning to squirm.
John reached out and touched her cheek, and she sighed and leaned into his hand.
After a moment John said, "We should probably go introduce this little guy to the others. And you should meet Sputnik. I think she's going to be with us for a while."
"Sputnik? Is that really her name?"
"No," John admitted. "But it suits."
Aeryn shook her head, and reached for the baby. "I'd better change him first," she told John. "Unless you want to."
She was actually surprised when he hesitated and said softly, "No, that's all right. I'll just get used to being around him first, okay?"
Aeryn pulled the supplies out and got the baby cleaned up, rather proud of her ability to take care of his basic needs. It really wasn't as difficult as she'd feared it would be. Neighbors who'd worried about "the poor little thing" in her obviously unskilled hands had taught her the basics. Except for the fact that it smelled worse and was a bit messier, changing the baby wasn't that different from cleaning a pulse pistol. There were steps to follow, and if you followed them, you had a clean and happy infant when you were done.
It still took concentration, though, especially since a baby had a tendency to squirm and kick, and a pulse pistol didn't! "Hold still," she told the child without heat, when he decided to kick both legs up just as she was trying to get his clean diaper attached. It was probably coincidence, but he stopped kicking just when she asked.
As she got the diaper fastened, John's voice startled her. "Good boy," he said softly. "You listen to your mama."
She looked back at John and said wryly, "He doesn't, you know. Not very often. Are you sure you don't want to do this?"
"No," he told her, smiling. "You're doing fine."
Aeryn finished up with the baby, putting a fresh coverall on him, but by the time she was done he was getting cranky. He hadn't really worked himself up to screaming, but he was making his voice heard, and she knew he was hungry. She picked him up and rocked him, brushed his hair off his forehead, and then looked at John apologetically. "I think he needs to eat before we take him anywhere."
John, still sitting on the bed, nodded. "Okay. They can wait. Do you need to get a bottle or something?"
"I have all the equipment I need right here," she told him, looking down at her chest, and he looked surprised and a little embarrassed. The baby's wails got louder, and she told the child briskly, "All right, just a microt," as she settled herself into a chair.
She shifted the baby to one arm, pulling her top loose from the waistband of her pants to expose one breast. The child's wails had gotten more insistent now that he realized she was going to feed him, and Aeryn said softly, "All right, all right, here it is." She brought him to her breast and he latched on immediately, sucking greedily. "There you go," she told him, shifting him slightly until he was in a comfortable position for both of them. She ran her fingers over his head, feeling the softness of her child's hair, taking a moment to relax, to feel the suction of his mouth emptying the milk from her body. It was....odd....but soothing in a way.
She looked at John then. He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, chin on his fists. He was watching her intently and playing with his lower lip with one thumb. He was smiling, but he seemed to be far away. She wished she knew what was going on in his head. Maybe this had been a bad idea, flaunting the other John's child this way. Well, too late now. She shook her head, making her hair ripple, and caught his eye. "Hey," she said.
He really looked at her then, and put his hands down in his lap. "Hey," he said.
She cocked her head and said, exasperated, "Are you all right?"
He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, blinked a couple of times, and finally took a deep breath. "Yes. I'm...all right." He quirked his mouth into a smile. "It's just that in all the time you were gone, all the times I thought about you with a baby -- I never imagined you like that."
"Like what?"
"Just....sitting there, like that, with a baby at your breast. It's beautiful. You're somebody's mother. And I'm an idiot."
She had no idea what he meant, or how to respond. She settled for glaring at him. "You'd better not be, Crichton. You're the one who's supposed to know something about raising these creatures."
He laughed then, shook off his mood, and said, "First off, you probably shouldn't call him a creature. It's not good for his self-esteem. He's a baby, or a boy. Or a rugrat."
Relieved at the change, she smiled. "All right," she said, breaking off as the baby let go of her breast. She pointed at the basket of supplies for the baby and said to John, "Can you hand me one of those pads?" He tossed it to her and she spread it over her shoulder before leaning the baby against it and patting him on the back in a precise rhythm.
John watched, bemused, until the baby burped, and Aeryn shifted his tiny body to the other breast. "Looks like he's a good eater," he said.
She grinned. "It's a good thing he is. He knows a lot more about being a baby than I know about being a mother."
"I don't exactly have any hands-on experience with the father thing, either," John admitted.
Ah. That's what was troubling him. One of the things, anyway. "It doesn't matter," she told him. "I think he'll teach us what we need to know. And if he doesn't, well, I suppose we could always ask D'Argo. He's here, isn't he?"
John laughed. "I never thought of D'Argo as Dr. Spock, but, yeah, he's here. Chiana and Rygel too. And you remember the old lady?" He started rambling on about the rest of the crew, old and new, and as the baby continued to suckle, Aeryn let him talk. It didn't take a human to realize there were a lot of churning emotions in both of them. There was a lot that still needed to be said, a lot that needed to be understood, things that neither one of them was ready to talk about. But for now, Aeryn was content. And she thought, stealing a look at his face, that John, too, thought this was a good beginning. A beginning for their future.
Aeryn laughed and said, "It's good to see you, too, Chiana," but John leaped in.
"Aeryn just got back, Pip, do *not* start with her."
The Nebari turned her attention to Crichton, and began, "Don't tell me what to do!" The bundle in his arms squirmed and a tiny arm appeared. "What the frell is *that*?" Chiana snapped.
D'Argo looked from John to Aeryn and back again, his jaw literally hanging open.
"I believe," Rygel announced to the room in general, "that it is called a baby."
"Got it in one, Sparky," John grinned.
"I know *that,*" Chiana told him. Apparently under the illusion that since John was *holding* the baby, he was responsible for it, she snapped, "Where did it come from?"
"The stork brought him," John said cheerfully, attempting to unwrap the baby so he could show him off to D'Argo, who'd walked over to get a better look.
"The....*storp*?" the Luxan asked.
"Stork," John repeated. "It's a big bird, it delivers babies on Earth."
"A *bird* brings babies on your planet?" Sikozu asked, entering the conversation. "How?"
Aeryn looked at the stranger for the first time, assessing her as a potential threat. Her eyes narrowed.
The newcomer took a step back, for safety's sake.
D'Argo cooed at the child, whose dark eyes seemed to be trying to focus on him. John rocked the baby awkwardly, and stole a glance back at Aeryn, who seemed to be content to let him take the spotlight.
"Wherever you got it from," Chiana finally sniffed, "you'd better give it back before someone notices it's missing!"
Enough was enough. "He's mine, all right?" Aeryn declared, reaching for the child.
Everyone stared at her in the sudden silence. Chiana's gaze shifted to Crichton in speculation.
When the baby was settled safely in Aeryn's arms, she smiled sheepishly at the group. "He's my son," she said, looking at John, giving him the opportunity to speak.
His face twitched in a smile and he added, "And mine."
"Sort of," Aeryn elaborated, feeling that they might as well be upfront with the baby's parentage. D'Argo certainly knew the length of a Sebacean pregnancy, and they'd be doing the math soon enough.
"Ooohhhhh," chorused D'Argo, Rygel and Chiana.
"*What*?" demanded Sikozu.
Everyone turned her direction, and just as quickly turned back to Aeryn and John and the child.
While John and D'Argo engaged in a fatherhood bonding ritual that seemed to consist largely of punching each other in the arm, Chiana stood bouncing from one foot to another, examining Aeryn, but studiously avoiding looking at the baby the Sebacean was bouncing in her arms. Finally Chiana lifted her head defiantly and said, "Hezmana, Aeryn, why'd you go and do a fekkik thing like that? Didn't they teach you birth control in PeaceKeeper school? Huh?" When Aeryn only stared at her blankly, she whirled around and stomped off to the other side of the room.
"Chiana!" John roared, and started across the room after her.
Aeryn reached out her free hand and grabbed his arm. "Leave her be, John."
John halted at her touch, and after a fleeting glance at Chiana, turned back and searched the face of the woman who had so recently come back into his life.
"It doesn't matter," she told him, shaking her head.
"Let me talk to her," D'Argo interjected, and before either John or Aeryn could say anything, he headed across the room to where Chiana stood, fuming.
Sikozu had settled herself on a counter and was watching the interactions with great interest.
While Chiana and D'Argo argued, Rygel floated over to the new parents on his thronesled. He gave Crichton a pleasant smile and then said to Aeryn, "It's a boy, is it? He's very pink."
"Yes, Rygel, he is," she agreed with equanimity.
"All my progeny were green, you know," he said gravely.
"Yes, yes, Rygel, we know all about your many, many progeny," John said, backing away with an apologetic glance at Aeryn. He headed over to where D'Argo was standing alone, Chiana having made her way over to plop down on the counter next to Sikozu.
"May I?" Rygel asked Aeryn, reaching his hand towards the infant in her arms.
"Yes," she told him, softly, and the Hynerian touched the child's tiny hand with one finger. The baby closed his fist on it, and Rygel beamed at Aeryn. She smiled back at him.
"He has a good tight fist," Rygel said. "He would make a fine Dominar."
"High praise indeed," Aeryn told him, attempting to cover suddenly teary eyes with a grin.
After a quick glance to ascertain that Crichton was still busy with D'Argo, Rygel looked back at Aeryn and said softly, "He'd have been pleased with the child, you know."
She bit her lip, looked away from Rygel and down at the baby. When she looked back at the Hynerian, she was smiling. "Yes," she said.
Rygel nodded, and told her, "And he would be glad to see you happy again."
Aeryn looked over at Crichton then, and saw him watching her and Rygel, a faint, worried frown on his face. She flashed John a reassuring smile, and then turned back to the one person left who had shared her time on Talyn. "He would," she agreed.
"But you still miss him."
"Sometimes." She glanced at Crichton again and smiled. "But it's getting better."
Rygel nodded, but before he could actually say anything, the infant let out a squawk and let go of Rygel's finger. The once and (hopefully) future Dominar flexed his hand and took the opportunity to back away, saying to the group at large, "You realize this means we have another mouth to feed."
John called from across the room, "Don't worry, Sparky, I don't think he's going to be arm-wrestling you for marjools any time soon."
"You'd better see to it," the Hynerian informed Crichton imperiously as he went back to his plate. "You'll need to teach him to behave. Fatherhood is a grave responsibility."
"Oh, right," growled D'Argo. "Like you ever changed a diaper!"
"Hynerian infants do not wear diapers," Rygel countered.
Meanwhile, Chiana was whispering animatedly to Sikozu. From time to time a word or two came through loudly enough to be heard, words like "doubled," and "ran off," and "tralk."
In the midst of the hubbub, Aeryn looked down at the baby in her arms, and then back around the room again, almost as if she were surrounded by complete strangers. Fearing from the look on her face that she might bolt at any moment, John hurried back to her side. "Here, let me take him for a while. You sit down. Eat something."
"I'm not hungry," she said, but she allowed John to take the baby and settle her in a chair.
John sat down beside her, turning his chair to face her, creating a little island of peace. He reached out the hand that wasn't holding the baby and stroked Aeryn's arm. "Hey, it's going to be okay. They're just surprised, that's all."
"Nowhere near as surprised as I was," she told him with a slight sniff and a smile that struggled to stay on her face.
"I know, Babe. I know." He leaned forward and kissed her softly, oblivious to the noise going on around them. "But we're going to love him and take care of him, and everything will be fine."
As Aeryn smiled at him gratefully, the baby began to fuss.
"Hey, hey, little guy, what's the matter?" John asked, attention diverted. "You can't be hungry, you just ate."
"He likes to be held up, over your shoulder," Aeryn offered. "I think perhaps he likes to be able to see more.
"Well, I don't know how much he can see at this age," John said, but he propped the tiny infant up on his shoulder and started talking to him softly and patting him on the back. The baby turned his head from side to side against John's black t-shirt, examining his surroundings, or maybe just trying to find a comfortable position.
After a few microts, there was a loud burping sound, and some of the child's last meal found itself on John's shoulder.
"Oh, yuck!" D'Argo grumbled. "Haven't we had enough puke lately to last us for a very long time?"
But John beamed. "Hey! He puked on me! Aeryn, he puked on me! I'm really a dad!"
He and Aeryn shared a long look of understanding, and then he added, "But I think I should have had one of those pads over my shoulder, huh?"
"We left them all in my quarters," Aeryn said sheepishly.
"Oh. Right."
Into the silence and out of nowhere, Sikozu announced, "I agree with Chiana. This ship is no place for an infant. You're obviously unprepared to properly care for a child. I suggest you find an appropriate home for it somewhere else."
"Hey, wait a minute, Psycho, you don't speak for me!" Chiana glared. She hopped down from the counter and stepped away from the newcomer and over to John and Aeryn.
D'Argo moved over to stand behind John, and Rygel positioned himself next to Aeryn. The five members of Moya's crew turned their gaze as one on the redheaded newcomer who was looking at them in some concern.
Taking advantage of his imposing height, D'Argo spoke for the group. "Don't ever mistake our loyalties," he growled. "We are a family."
"A damned dysfunctional one a lot of the time," John added, "but the only real family most of us have."
"I....see," Sikozu said. "Truly. I had...noticed."
"You would do well to remember it," Rygel replied, and Chiana nodded vigorously.
"I shall, of course," Sikozu said earnestly, though she was probably wondering how quickly she could steal a ship and get away from these people.
"John, aren't you going to introduce us?" Aeryn asked, bemused at the show of loyalty.
"Of course, where are my manners?" Crichton said. "Sikozu, this is Aeryn Sun, ex-Peacekeeper, the best pilot on board Moya and the person I most want to have watch my back in a firefight." After a brief pause he added, "And the mother of my son." He turned to Aeryn with a huge grin on his face. "Damn, that sounds good to say!" Aeryn smiled at him, and he continued. "Aeryn, this is Sikozu. She's got a big long name like Jool, but you know how informal we are around here."
Aeryn pursed up her mouth in a wry smile and said simply, "Yes, I know."
"Anyway," John continued, "we don't know her very well yet, but she's smart, knows Leviathans real well, and managed to modify the radio on my module so that it picks up Peacekeeper code."
The newcomer looked surprised to be described in such a positive way, but chose not to comment on it. She walked over to stand in front of Aeryn. "It's good to meet you," she said. "Your name came up a lot."
"Thank you," Aeryn told her.
"Hey, Aeryn," Chiana said, when it was clear the Sebacean wasn't going to say anything more. She nodded her head towards the baby, who was still being held up against John's shoulder, and had shoved his fist in his mouth. "You do good work. He's really beautiful."
"Thank you, Chiana," Aeryn replied. "He doesn't do very much yet," she admitted. "Mostly he eats and sleeps and cries."
"And pukes," Chiana added with a grin and a glance at John's shoulder.
John turned his head and looked at his shoulder. "Hmm. I should probably clean that off, huh? You wanna take him, Pip?" he said, handing the baby out towards Chiana.
"Uh, no, I don't think so," she said. "I bet he's still loaded."
"Give him to me," Aeryn said, when D'Argo and Rygel backed away slightly as well. "You and I are responsible for him," she declared, "not the others."
John nodded, seconding her peace offering to the group. With a smile, he handed her the baby and walked over to the sink. He wiped the worst of the mess off his shirt with a towel, and then pulled the shirt off over his head.
Watching the muscles in John's back and arms as he worked to clean the shirt under a stream of water, Chiana leaned over to Aeryn and remarked, "On second thought, the kid has his uses!"
"Mm-mm," Aeryn agreed, but when Sikozu started to agree as well, Aeryn shot her a warning glare.
Completely irritated, Sikozu flopped into a chair, crossed her arms and pouted.
"Hey," John said suddenly, turning his head around and looking back at the group around the table. "Where's Granny? I forgot all about her."
"Not sure," Chiana answered. "She said she was going to her quarters, but I'm not really sure which cell she was using before we left."
"As long as she stays away from me and from the baby," John said sharply. "I've had about all I can take of her damn leaves and powders!"
Since his back was to her, Aeryn looked to the others in question.
"I'll explain later," D'Argo growled softly. "If he doesn't."
Aeryn nodded.
John finished with the shirt and pulled it back on, the wet shoulder and sleeve clinging to his skin. As he turned around, D'Argo asked, "You didn't say. What's his name?"
"He hasn't got a name yet," Aeryn confessed.
"Yeah, we've gotta rectify that one really soon," John added.
"How about 'Larry.' Or 'More'?" suggested D'Argo.
"That's 'Moe," John told him, "and no, those are *not* going to work."
"You could name him after me," Rygel said. "'Rygel' is a proud name."
"I don't think so," Aeryn said, laughter in her voice, "unless you're planning on making him your heir." When Rygel sputtered, she looked at John and said, "Maybe 'Marko'?"
"Polo," John replied, shaking his head. "Not going to do it, Babe."
"You could call him 'Krell,' 'cos he is," Chiana teased.
John and Aeryn fixed her with a simultaneous "behave yourself" glare, and she let out a burst of laughter.
John, Aeryn, D'Argo, Chiana and Rygel continued tossing out names, each sillier than the last. They all knew that John and Aeryn would choose their child's name together, at another time, when it was quiet and they could think. But after everything they'd been through in the monens since they had parted, they were all pleased to be back together, and safe, and to be able to welcome this tiny child to their family.
At last Aeryn broke up the impromptu party. "Well," she said, "whatever his name is going to be, he's trying to fall asleep." She pointed at her tiny son, still dwarfed in John's arms. "I should go put him to bed." She reached out her arms for the baby.
"Ah, Mom," John teased, "can't he stay up late just today?"
She smiled at him. "Surely you must be tired of holding him by now."
John fixed her with a steady gaze. "No," he said softly. "I'm not."
Through the tears that appeared unbidden in her eyes she offered, "You carry him, then. You can help me put him to bed."
"Okay," he agreed immediately, standing up, automatically rocking the baby from side to side. "You can teach me his routine."
They said their goodbyes and headed back to Aeryn's quarters. John had both arms wrapped around his son, making very sure that he wouldn't drop him even if the infant made any sudden movements. Aeryn stayed close by his side, enjoying the comfort of his presence.
"Where has he been sleeping?" John asked as they walked. "I didn't see a crib."
"On my bed during the day," she said. "And with me at night. He seems to want to eat every few arns, so it seemed practical."
"Well, we'll have to change that," John said.
Aeryn stopped and John stopped with her. "John, you and I, we're not..." She trailed off.
He flushed with embarrassment at being misunderstood. "I know, Baby, I didn't mean.... I know we're not."
It was her turn to be embarrassed. "Oh," she said. "Then what *did* you mean?"
He smiled then, and said, "Just that if I'm going to help, he should have a bed where I can get to him without disturbing you. And besides, he's going to be mobile pretty soon, and just being in the middle of your bed with nothing to keep him from squirming off the edge isn't going to be a good idea."
She looked like it was the first time it had occurred to her that the child would be moving under his own power as time passed. "I see. Well, I can see that you have a point there." She sighed and looked in his eyes. "There's so much I don't know about babies."
"We'll get by," he told her. "He has a mother and a father to love him and take care of him." He looked up at the ceiling and then back at Aeryn. "We'll work it out."
She knew he meant more than just parenting their son. She nodded and whispered, "Yes."
John took one arm from around the baby and wrapped it around Aeryn, pulling her close. She wrapped herself around him, and the baby, and they stood for long microts, holding each other tight, listening to each other breathe, feeling each other's heartbeat. Finally, John stirred and kissed the top of her head.
"We'd better go put this little guy to bed," he said. "I'll have to teach you some lullabies."
"What?"
"Bedtime songs. To sing the baby to sleep."
"I think I'll leave that to you," she smiled. "You're his father."
John's smile lit the rest of their trip to Aeryn's quarters.
He had scoured Moya's upper tiers looking for appropriate materials to make a bed to safely contain his son. The resulting bed was made from pieces of metal that had once been the skin of a prowler. He'd welded it solidly, smoothed all the edges. He'd found some kind of foam for a mattress, firm enough to be solid so there was no danger of suffocation, but with just a little "give" to it so that it would be, he thought, comfortable for the little guy to sleep on. Thin blocks of the same foam created bumper pads at the side of the crib. Then he'd scavenged some blankets from Moya's stores to make sheets, and, voila! A bed for the baby!
Now he was at work actually setting up his creation in Aeryn's room. As long as she needed to feed the baby at night, it was practical to keep the crib in her quarters. She was out working on her prowler, and John was babysitting while he worked.
The child, still unnamed, was awake, lying in the middle of Aeryn's bed, and John talked to him while he worked, just nonsense, but it made him feel connected. Fatherhood was still so new, it didn't sit easily on him yet. He was thrilled, but he hadn't really had the customary nine months to get used to the idea.
Aeryn had seen to that.
He felt his stomach tighten, but before he could descend to brooding, the baby squawked. John turned to look at the tiny boy, who was blowing big wet bubbles and waving his arms, and let out a huge sigh.
He walked over and sat down on the bed, next to his miraculous child. "Hey there!" he said, picking the infant up and checking his diaper. Still dry. Score one for the home team. He ran his finger around the child's face and smoothed the fine, dark hair, allowing himself to be soothed by his actions. "I guess I'm still a little pissed at your mama, huh?"
The little life in his arms quirked his mouth into what might have been a smile, supplicating in his mother's behalf, and John's heart melted. "Don't worry about it," he told the child. "I'll get over it." Hell, if Aeryn could forgive him for killing her, he could forgive her for leaving. It wasn't like life had been easy for either of them these past few cycles.
The baby stretched and yawned, and John said, "If you're ready for a nap, I'd better get this project finished, huh?" He leaned down and kissed the baby on the forehead and set him back down on the bed. Standing up to get back to work on the crib, John remarked, "We have *got* to get you a name!"
Whistling a series of lullabies he'd dredged from his memory, John finished putting his do-it-yourself crib together in another quarter of an arn.
When he was done he turned back to the baby and said, "Well, little guy, how about taking your new bed for a test drive?"
He picked the baby up, and carried him over to the crib.
"There you go! A perfect fit!" he smiled. The baby kicked at him cheerfully, apparently no longer sleepy.
John stepped back and plopped himself down on Aeryn's bed. Scooting back, he plumped up a pillow and stuck it behind him to cushion his back against the wall. He sat for a while, admiring his handiwork, and relaxing. After a little while, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
Just when he was drifting into a warm and comfortable place, Aeryn's voice cut through the haze. "John?"
There was a sharp edge to her tone that even his sleep-dulled mind recognized as fear. As he pushed himself back to consciousness, he forced himself to speak. "He's okay, Aeryn, he's fine. In the crib..."
But when he got his eyes open, he realized that she wasn't looking at the crib, or even for the baby. She was staring at him, or, more precisely, through him, eyes wide. It gave him a queer feeling, something like his grandmother used to describe as someone walking over your grave.
Crap. That was probably literally what it was, he realized. He'd felt that look on his own face from time to time, when something reminded him of Aeryn's death.
He scrambled forward, changing his position, moving to break the illusion. "Aeryn?"
She blinked and came back to the present from wherever she'd been. "Sorry." She took a deep breath and took a few steps toward the crib. "This is it, then?" she asked, looking down at the baby, as if nothing had happened.
He sat on the bed for a moment on his knees, looking at Aeryn's back. Her dark hair was hanging free, and she was wearing the dark tank top she'd adopted sometime in her travels. She'd come back, she'd offered him the chance to be a father to her son. And she was more of a mystery to him than she had ever been.
But he still loved her, beyond hope, as he had told her when she left, and so he got off of the bed and walked over to stand next to her, explaining the features of the crib. He leaned on the sides and pushed his hand on the mattress, showing her how sturdy it was. He explained about the bumper pads on the side, and why he'd chosen the height he had, and when he finally dared to look at her, she was smiling at him in that way she had that said he was a crazy human, but he was *her* crazy human, and he dared to hope that everything would work out, somehow.
"Well done," Aeryn said when she saw he was looking at her.
John gave an 'aw, shucks' shrug and said, pointing to the baby, who'd finally fallen asleep, "He seems to like it. He's sound asleep."
"He sleeps anywhere."
"True. He's a regular Rip van Winkel."
She cocked her head and looked at him speculatively. "Is that what you want to call him?"
John laughed at the thought, but seized on her question. "Not a chance. But we do need to settle on a name."
She nodded with a small smile. "I was thinking," she said hesitantly, "that he should have a human name."
John searched her face for a long moment, and then he nodded. "For his father."
"Yes," she said simply.
He reached out and pushed a strand of dark hair out of her face, thinking. "Well," he said slowly, "I'm a Junior, named after my dad." And so was he, he left unspoken. "You could call him John."
Aeryn shook her head. "No. There should only be one John Crichton in the universe," she whispered.
Tears appeared in her eyes, and John couldn't stand it. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. She held him tightly, too, but after a moment she said, "I'm all right. Really."
He wasn't sure he was. Was this the way it was always going to be? Memories of the other him, who died?
"Come here," he said, unwrapping her and pulling her over to the bed. He climbed back to where he'd been sitting when she came in, back against the wall, but this time with his knees up and spread wide. He patted the bed in front of him. "Sit." She looked dubious, and he repeated, "Sit. I won't bite."
She went still and regarded him quietly for a moment, and he wondered what he had said. Then, to his surprise, she smiled, and did as he asked. She climbed onto the bed and settled down between his knees, leaning back against his chest and pulling her own knees up as well.
He leaned his head forward, into her hair again, inhaling the scent. "All right," he breathed into her ear. "No more Johns. We could call him Robert, that's my middle name."
"Or Jack?" she offered, relaxing into his arms and breathing deeply.
He considered it, idly twirling a strand of her hair in the fingers of one hand. It had its appeal, especially since he was afraid his father would never meet this grandchild. But the trouble was, the name 'Jack' was inextricably bound up in his memory with all the bad things that had happened since he arrived in the Uncharted Territories. "No," he said, regretfully.
Aeryn was quiet, letting him think. He hoped she was enjoying being in his arms as much as he was enjoying having her there. How long had it been since they just sat together like this?
His mind went back to his family, back on Earth. "Trouble is," he said, kissing the top of her head, "I seem to have mostly female relatives."
"Is that a problem?" Aeryn asked, a smile in her voice.
"Only when you're trying to think of a family name for a boy baby," he said, but then it hit him. "Mack," he said, testing it.
"Mack?"
"My mother's maiden name was McDougall -- and her father was always called Mack. My Grandpa Mack." The old man had been a college professor, and hadn't thought much of the rocket jockey his daughter had married -- but he had doted on his only grandson. When John's father was wrapped up in his work, Grandpa Mack had taken the boy to museums, lectures, science fairs, anything to engage his scientific curiosity and his mind. It had worked, too.
"Mack Robert Crichton," Aeryn tried.
"Sun," John said. "Mack Robert Sun."
"Mack. Mack Sun." She twisted her head to the side and angled it up to look at him. "Could we call him 'Max' instead?"
He thought it probably came off her tongue more easily than Mack. It reminded *him* of her mother's name. Well, maybe that was good. Two relatives for the price of one. "Max is a good name," he said softly. "Have we done it? Max Robert Sun?"
She smiled her assent, and reached her mouth up to his, kissing him softly on the lips, a reward for choosing a name for the baby.
He kissed her back, feeling her tremble slightly, realizing he was trembling as well. Even though she was making no move to deepen the kiss, he broke it off. He took a deep breath and asked, "Aeryn, what are we doing here?"
She sat back from him and turned her whole body around so she was sitting in front of him, cross-legged, regarding him seriously. "Getting to know each other again?"
He wasn't quite sure what to say, and while he was gathering his thoughts, she spoke again.
"Look. John and me -- everything happened so fast. Too fast, I sometimes think now." She shook her head, and he watched her hair ripple. "You and I..."
They had both been through hell. She was right. They needed to get to know each other again before anything more happened between them. He exhaled comfortably.
"We can take our time," he said gently.
Inexplicably, she snorted and turned around again, settling her back against his chest. "You'd better mean that this time, Crichton," she warned with a sniff.
It was obvious she was referring to something the other guy had said, but he consciously decided not to let it bother him. "I love you, Aeryn Sun," he said, wrapping his arms around her once again. "We can take as much time as we need."
She nodded firmly and replied, "I love you, too."
John closed his eyes against the tears that threatened then. They still loved each other, after everything. At least he knew that much. It was the foundation of his hope now, his life. They weren't ready yet, but when they were…. He *had* to believe that one day, they would truly be together.
And in the meantime, while they and their friends on Moya stumbled from one unintended disaster to another, while he and Aeryn learned about the man and woman they had become over the past cycle and worked to rebuild their shattered relationship -- In the meantime, they had a beautiful son named Max to share their lives.