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Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: I don’t think so .. Maybe just a smidge.
Time Frame: Prior to “Suns And Lovers”
Disclaimer: They aren’t mine, but I wish they were. Thank you to the Henson Company, et al. for sharing them with everyone.
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The transport pod eased out of Moya’s hangar bay and accelerated in a smooth arc away from the Leviathan, and towards the planet below. The commerce planet, Baryonia, looked a great deal like Earth, reflected John Crichton as he alternated his focus between the approaching planet and watching Aeryn Sun pilot the transport pod. He had become an accomplished pilot in the last two cycles, and could handle the pod as well as almost everyone else aboard Moya … with the exception of Aeryn. Watching her smooth handling of the controls, and instinctual adjustments in response to the information streaming across the displays before her, John realized that he still had a great deal to learn about flying the transport, let alone any other space craft built in this portion of the universe.
He looked back toward the planet, but any view of their landing area was obscured by heavy cloud cover. When Moya had entered orbit 50 arns earlier, there had been clear skies above Baryonia’s primary trading center of Hubblei and everyone had been looking forward to getting off Moya and doing some purchasing while enjoying fair weather and planetary sunshine. However, a weather system had moved in before they could transfer to the planet, and despite waiting slightly less than 2 of Baryonia’s solar days it did not look like the weather was going to improve. In the end, the crew needing supplies desperately, John had said he was willing to barter no matter what the weather. Aeryn, Dargo and Chiana had finally decided to come to the planet as well.
John looked behind him where D’Argo and Chiana sat, both wearing heavy clothing underneath cloaks of heavy, mailed quilting in D’Argo’s case, and long shaggy fur of some sort in Chiana’s case. D’Argo was scowling despite Chiana’s best efforts to cheer him up.
“Come on D’Argo … it’s NOT Moya. It’s a change of scenery at last. If I had to spend one more microt with Stark and that Hynerian toad, I was going to resort to something MORE than just harsh language.”
John turned away, close to laughing out loud as a long, deep rumble emanated apparently from somewhere within D’Argo’s chest.
“I HATE the cold. It would have been bad enough if we had come down two solar days ago when it was just cloudy, but Pilot says it is so cold down there now that some of the surface moisture has begun to freeze. I HATE the cold.”
Aeryn spared a one microt glance away from the controls to glance back at D’Argo. Looking forward again she spoke over her shoulder. “We didn’t have to come D’Argo, but you know as well as I do that we are very close to running out of rations. Pilot was unable to estimate how much longer this weather system is going to remain centered over Hubblei … it could be days before it clears. So unless you’d like to try fried dentics … “ She left the rest of the suggestion unsaid.
Chiana laughed and reaching forward gave Crichton a light slap across the back of the head.
Mock glaring at Aeryn he muttered, “Fer cryin’ out loud, aren’t you guys EVER going to let me live that one down?”
“No!” shouted three voices in unison.
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Aeryn chose to set the transport pod down a couple thousand metras from the outskirts of Hubblei. The buildings on the outskirts of the city were made from the trunks of the locally indigenous plants which passed for Baryonia’s version of trees. Although it was no longer precipitating, Aeryn found it difficult to use the sensors to differentiate between the forests and the buildings and elected not to make a tragic effort to get closer to the city. It was only during the last 200 metras of the descent that she was able to pick up the ground visually and be absolutely sure she was not going to land on anyone or anything. The pod touched down and settled onto its multiple struts without the slightest thump.
John looked at her shaking his head. “You are go-oo-oo-od!”, which she accepted with a smile and a slight incline of her head.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for flying Aeryn-Air, the airline of astronauts. We hope your trip has been a pleasant one”, Crichton began in a perky falsetto as he moved to the hatch and began opening it. “Please mind your step as you move to the hammond side exit and the next time you feel like traveling we hope you choose Aeryn-Air.”
D’Argo turned to look at Aeryn and Chiana, “I think I liked it better when Scorpius controlled his brain.”
John jumped lightly down from the transport, skipping the last three steps, and landed in 4 inches of new wet snow. His face lit up with delight as he looked around at the landscape. The transport had set down in a large meadow surrounded on three sides by trees … well, not exactly trees he reflected. They looked a bit more like bunches of celery, but the stalks were a fibrous, woody material which had apparently been used for building structures which could be seen in the distance. The bushy leaves at the top were a dark green, and held the snow, turning the scene into something close to his memories of winter on Earth. The fourth side of the landing area ended in a short, moderate incline, the ground dropping away till it joined with another open meadow area which widened into a view of agricultural areas laying chilled and unused in the distance.
Chiana jumped down next to him and almost fell as her feet shot out from under her. Crichton grabbed her quickly around the waist and saved her from a serious spill, but the two of them went down together in a heap instead, Chiana yelping as they crashed down.
“Yotz!”
“Very nice, Pip, very graceful.”
D’Argo and Aeryn descended more cautiously, D’Argo extending a hand and pulling first Chiana and then Crichton to their feet. “What the hezmana are we supposed to do about walking on this stuff?”
“No, Big D, this is great! We can just slide into town. This is fantastic, watch!” John took a careful running start and then after a little hop, slid for almost 5 metras through the snow which lay on top of frozen ground before finally skidding to a stop. “Just make sure you keep your weight balanced or else … “
“Woooooooooo!” Chiana slid past him and continued for almost another 5 metras before racing off across the meadow in a series of runs and slides. Spots of footprints followed by the tracks of her slides looked like exclamation marks running off into the distance.
“OK! So Chiana‘s got the hang of it.”
Aeryn stopped beside John as D’Argo crunched carefully past them both, choosing a more cautious approach to their walk into Hubblei.
“Are you really enjoying this snow?”
“Yes, it’s a nice change from day after day inside Moya.”
“And you have snow like this on Earth? Humans enjoy snow like this?”
Crichton looked at her out of the corners of his eyes, not moving his head. “Well, not exactly. … I mean no one really likes snow just because it’s SNOW,” he admitted. “It’s how beautiful it looks on a day like today, it’s what you can do with it.”
Aeryn gave a brief shake of the head, as if to say ‘You’re losing me, John’.
“Here. You can make snowballs out of it … I haven’t done this since I was in college!” Sweeping the skirts of his black overcoat out of the way, he began scooping up handfuls of the wet snow, packing it quickly into a number of spheres which he set back down into the snow. Aeryn knelt on one knee next to him and tried it, packing just two snowballs before she stopped.
“And what do you do with these snow balls? Make decorations? … Crichton, my hands are freezing! This is ridiculous.”
“Big bad Peacekeeper can’t take a little cold water on her fingers? Here, they’re not going to fall off you know.”
John stood and pulled Aeryn to her feet also. He gently cupped both her hands in his and blew into the hollow of their joined hands. Aeryn’s irritation evaporated, all her thoughts unraveling. She never imagined such a simple act as warming her hands could be so intimate. John blew into their hands again, and Aeryn fought to bring her thoughts back to ground level.
“And what are these for?” she asked again as John released her hands.
“Ahhhh, this will appeal to you. They’re ammunition!” He rapidly gathered six snowballs into the crook of his left arm, keeping one more in his free hand. “Oh, D’Argo is so going to hate me for this!” He began walking quickly after the Luxan, judging carefully how close he needed to be for an accurate shot without being so close he could not retreat in time if faced with hyper-rage.
SPPPLLLATTTSSSSCHHHH!!
Melting snow and ice ran down the back of Crichton’s head and into the collar of his coat, running cold streams down his back. He whirled around just in time to take another in his chest.
“You’re right Crichton, they DO appeal to me. They’re just like Taglet shock grenades.” She scooped up another double handful of snow and began running backwards, packing the snow. “What‘s the matter, you couldn‘t see the sense of a preemptive strike?” she laughed.
Crichton ran after her pelting her with one snowball after another. Aeryn danced lithely away, dodging most of his shots no matter how accurate. Her laughing face continued to retreat before his onslaught until he suddenly found himself without ammunition.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” He bellowed at the top of his lungs as he charged her position at the top of the incline. Aeryn knelt, scooping up handfuls of snow, not bothering to pack it, but heaving loose clumps at him as he continued running towards her. At the last minute she stood up, and John ran into her with a forceful thump, wrapping his arms around her and twisting so that when they fell over, he was the one who landed on the bottom. They slid together to the bottom of the hill, his long leather coat turning into a perfect toboggan, with the exception of the collar which scooped up snow through the entire trip and packed it inside his coat between his shoulders.
Somewhere between the top and the bottom of the hill, with Aeryn’s comfortable weight on top of him, and D’Argo’s and Chiana’s laughter somewhere in the distance, the cold icy core within John’s soul which had been left there by the Ice Planet melted and flowed away.
They came to rest at the bottom, Aeryn still on top. He looked up at her and repeated what she had once said to him. “Are you comfortable? Can I get you a pillow?”
Aeryn placed her finger tips on the line of his jaw and tipped his head towards him, and gently kissed him. Cold snow beneath him, Aeryn’s warm weight upon him, icy fingers on his throat and jaw, and warm, warm lips upon his, John Crichton sank into the symphony of sensations.
