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Disclaimer: They are not mine. It's kind of like when a friend gets a new car. It may not be yours, but you can still enjoy the ride!
Summary: In response to "Single Tear Challenge"
A Single Tear Fell
John was tired of pretending that the hurt of seeing Aeryn everyday and knowing that she would never be his didn't matter. He needed the pain to be gone, even if just for a little while, which is why he decided to visit the commerce planet by himself. "Some alcohol, some girls, some partying is just what I need right now," he thought to himself as he entered Moya's Docking Bay looking as dressed to kill as he could in his PK surplus duds.
D'Argo and Chiana were in the Docking Bay fiddling with D'Argo's ship. At seeing John, D'Argo immediately knew something was wrong. He cautiously asked, "John, where are you going?"
"To have some fun," John growled in response.
D'Argo and Chiana threw each other quick, worried glances. They had wondered how long John would, no could, put up with the current situation with Aeryn before doing something that he would regret. Just that day, D'Argo and Chiana had heard yelling and then had seen John storm down Moya's corridor. At the sight of seeing John fume while he walked down the passageway, Chiana had mumbled, "Things are never going to get back to normal." D'Argo could only agree.
John's banging around in the transport pod drew D'Argo's attention back to the situation at hand. D'Argo began, "John, I don't think it is a good idea for you to..."
"D'Argo, no offense but right now I really don't care what you think."
Chiana tried next, "Crichton, why don't I go with you? I was wanting to get..."
"Pip, thanks for trying, but I gotta get away for a little bit." With that, John entered the pod and hurriedly left Moya for the planet below.
The planet was the average, run-of-the-mill commerce planet, complete with metropolitan areas with their red-light districts and seedy bars. After landing on the planet, John found his way to the east side of the largest city where he chanced upon a club that made the Moulin Rouge and Studio 54 look like prayer meetings. Around what looked to be a stage, girls covered in body paint gyrated to the pounding, unearthly rhythm that came from huge drums beside the stage. The darkened bar was accented by the eye-catching outfits of the waitresses that were made of transparent glow-in-the-dark plastic-like material that looked like the bracelets sold at carnivals on earth. The glowing phosphorescence combined with the stiff drinks and music were spellbinding. An agreeable bartender, who looked like something out of a bad Star Wars rip-off, completed the scene. John was sitting at the bar and had already downed four grotchas (whatever they were, he didn't ask) and was not feeling any pain when a beautiful dark-haired woman came up to him.
"Buy you another grotcha?" the scantily clad woman cooed close to John's ear as she sat down next to him.
"Sure," John said as he faced the woman. "My name's John."
"I'm Allrette," the woman whispered in response.
After two more grotchas, John and Allrette had become more than acquaintances. Allrette was half sitting in his lap, and he had his arms around her waist. With some effortless persuasion, Allrette pulled him from his bar stool and led him out of the club and down the street toward her living quarters. Within a quarter of an arn, they had made their way to her apartment where she turned the key in the lock and entered. "This is just what I need. Alcohol, a beautiful woman, meaningless sex, more meaningless sex," John thought to himself as he followed Allrette into her home.
Allrette's apartment was nothing out of the ordinary, but John didn't really notice. All he was noticing was where Allrette's lips were and how much clothing she could take off without ever breaking a kiss. Before long, Allrette had nothing left on and John and her were getting very, very comfortable on her bed.
********
Later that night, John slowly flew the transport pod back up to Moya. He wasn't ready to return, not yet. He had left Moya to get a respite from the pain that was consuming him. But, that pain wouldn't relent. And now with the activities of the night behind him, he was tormented more acutely than he had been since he had received Aeryn's cool "Hello, John" when Talyn first returned. "What was wrong with some female companionship?" he scolded himself for feeling guilty for the trip planet-side. The evening was just what he wanted, but it had only made him feel worse.
There he had been with Allrette, her willingness evident by her lack of apparel and passionate kisses. But just when they were getting to the good part, Allrette had transformed before his eyes. Instead of seeing her, he had seen Aeryn. Instead of hearing her sweet nothings, he had heard Aeryn. Instead of feeling her, he had felt Aeryn. He was there on the planet to get her out of his mind, and yet everywhere he looked, the radiant Aeryn Sun stood taunting him. Mad at himself for not being able to banish Aeryn from his mind, he had hurriedly left Allrette with an embarrassed apology.
That night's trip was to get away and forget Aeryn. Instead, she followed him and haunted him even into his alcohol-induced pleasure. At that moment, John realized that as long as he lived, she would always haunt him. He would never be happy with anyone but Aeryn and yet she was never going to let him in.
Even since the whole situation of two hims and one Aeryn began, John had felt the gamut of emotions. He had been mad and angry and jealous. Then he had felt sorry for himself for not being the one who was with Aeryn and then sorry for himself for being the one who was still alive. Pain and hurt and emotional trauma had taken their toll. Now, there was nothing left but frustration and inequity and hopelessness.
With all his power spent and knowing there would never be a way out, he pulled into Moya's Docking Bay with the resolution of a man just put on death row. He exited the transport pod while down his cheek a single tear fell.
