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Disclaimers: Not mine, none of them mine *sigh*
Rating: PG
Authors notes: The original story wasn’t meant to have a sequel, but having listened to the
comments, I hope this is enough for you and I wont get inundated with soggy noodles!
XXX
Aeryn sat on one cot, John on the other. He watched her every movement, drinking in her beauty, her voice, her everything. Trying to commit it all to memory, afraid to miss even the slightest movement. She was talking to him, him, not the other, him. It was enough. He could live with that, God how he could live with it. Then he realised that she had stopped, head tilted to one side studying him.
“What?” What was that look for? Had he nodded at the wrong time? He’d been listening to everything, relishing the information she was sharing, knowing how hard it was for her, respecting her more for doing it. His mind had wandered just for a microt – hadn’t it?
“Nothing, you, you just seemed to have a distant look in your eyes, like you do when you’re talking to that neural clone.” She had never quite got used to referring to as anything other than what it was. Couldn’t bring herself to name it as John had. Was that some kind of farbot tradition from his home world? Did everything have a name?
“No, no, its just us, me and you. I was just admiring the view is all.” He cursed himself. Friends, nothing more, just friends. He would have to watch his mouth; it was going to get him into trouble – again. He would have to refrain from using anything that might cause her to back away. To put back the wall that was slowly being broken down.
She smiled slightly, biting down on her lip. “Right, John Crichton, now tell me about your life.” And to her surprise, she actually wanted to know. Her John, he had told her things, was she testing him? Checking to see if they were the same? She mentally shook her head no; she wanted to know everything. Even if she had heard some of it before, she really did want to know. Talyn had been one adventure after another; they had shared their dreams and hopes, not their past, not in detail like this. This was nice, this was new, this could be handled.
XXX
Neither knew the time, it ceased to exist for them. The guard had brought more food, noticing that the earlier rations were untouched. Both prisoners too absorbed in conversation to even note his presence this time. He watched them. The male talking, the female watching. He had never quite seen Peacekeepers like this. Oh, he had seen many talking, usually about some battle or other, some kill or other. These two, they talked of their life. Now that was unusual.
He retreated from his position, suddenly uncomfortable. He should not eavesdrop; it had become apparent from an early stage that the two were of no real threat. They were not on official business. They travelled with a multitude of cultures. And above all they seemed friendly enough, suspicious but friendly none the less. The male always acknowledged his presence. Until the female had awoken, then his attention was solely hers.
“How are they?” Enquired the second guard.
“Same, talking, talking, talking.” He replied
“Good, lets hope it stays that way. Only 6 arns of their imprisonment remains. Their crew will pick them up. Do you have any idea why they wanted us to keep them longer? The crime only carried 12 arns cool down. Why do you think they requested we hold them for an entire weeken?”
The other guard shrugged “Maybe they were tired of their talking.”
XXX
Aeryn laughed at the story he was telling. That sound made his heart beat faster. He’d missed that sound, missed the talking, hell he’d missed everything. He could cope with the friends thing, he really could. He would take anything she offered, and if this was all, then it was enough. For now.
“And so that, it would seem is my life in a nutshell, up until the point where I was blasted through that wormhole.” He concluded, sitting back against the cool wall of the cell he closed his eyes.
“What is the first thing you will do when you reach Earth?” Where the frell did that question come from? And then she knew, it was a question she had asked the other, and never received a reply. As always, something had come up – bad timing as he so often referred.
His eyes opened slowly and he looked at her curiously. He rubbed his thumb along his lips, as he always did when he was thinking, trying to figure something or other out. She knew this man better than he knew himself. She could read his expressions, gauge his reactions, but still he surprised her in ways she never knew existed. This man had taken her heart, shattered it, and now he was gently put it back together, repairing it all the while with love. His heart, she knew was in tatters, but he was strong, stronger than even his deadliest enemies had given credit for. He would survive this, wouldn’t he? She was jolted back when he cleared his throat – a nervous trait.
“Um, well, firstly kick Steven Spielberg’s ass up and down Hollywood Boulevard for getting it so dam wrong.” He smiled at her confusion “Film guy – thinks he knows bout aliens, never mind. Then find dad, family, friends. After that order the biggest dam pizza you ever did see and a coke to match. Then? Mmmm Chocolate – have I told you bout chocolate?”
She nodded smiling. Glad finally that she had an answer to the question. Knowing it would have been the same answer, just from a different person.
“You do know they have at least a million different varieties of the stuff right? I mean they even have body paint! Chocolate body paint, now there’s something we could have fun with…” his voice trailed off and his eyes lowered. Dam it to hell, he done it again. “Sorry, I have this problem with my mouth – its too dam big, big enough to get my two feet in.” His voice was soft, but filled with remorse, guilt, and desire.
“It’s fine” It wasn’t though, she had listened to his answer, he hadn’t once said I when referring to what he would do, he had mentally included her, just hadn’t mentioned the fact to her. Did he know that she would have gone to Earth? Even after the Ancients had foretold what might happen? “I, we, the other I mean, we talked about going….” He didn’t let her finish.
“Don’t Aeryn, please, don’t.” She had never heard him beg before, least of all to her. She didn’t like the way it made her feel, or the taste that was filling her mouth. He continued, eyes still downcast, oblivious to the look of regret on her face. “That was you’re time, and his time. This is my time.” She understood then. He didn’t want her confusing the two, both unique in everyway, yet so different in others. How could she have been so wrong? The other was different because he had her love; he had her. And this John – what did he have?
They both remained silent for a while, contemplating.
XXX
The crew of Moya were gathered in command. They knew they had taken a huge risk with both Aeryn and John, they just hoped the gamble paid off.
“Do you think one of them is dead?” asked Rygel to no one in particular.
“Well, if they are, you can bet it won’t be Aeryn” Chiana deadpanned.
“It had to be done. You know Crichton; he won’t be able to refrain from talking for any length of time. It is imperative that they find some common ground if the mission is to work. It is a safe planet, and they are in a safe place. No harm…”
“Don’t say it!” They cried out in unison. Crais looked at them, eyebrows raised in question.
Rygel enlightened him “Whenever that human uses that expression, we end up in trouble, usually by his own doing. We have a few arns left of peace from him. Lets not waste it. Is anyone hungry? This conversation has made me hungry.”
“Everything makes you hungry. Tell me, what do you actually do onboard this ship, besides eat?”
He was about to reply to Jool’s comment but D’Argo raised his hand. “Stop! Or when we go to collect them, I will pay the guard to take you two for the next four weekens, then we will all have some peace!”
“You wouldn’t…”
“I am Dominar..”
Both started, but they didn’t finish. The look that crossed the Luxan’s face told them that indeed he probably would.
XXX
John noticed the plate for the first time. He climbed off the cot to reach for it, at the same time as Aeryn did. Both hands touched and they jumped back. They looked at each other, both wondering if the other had felt the charge it ignited in their bodies.
“Ladies first.” He gestured with a smile.
“Primitives first.” She countered returning the smile. The ice was broken again.
“What do you think it is?” He asked, keeping the conversation light, neutral, safe.
“Hmmm, not chocolate body paint anyway, tell me, why would you paint someone with a food substance?” She didn’t want to go back to strained conversations; she wanted the warmth of his voice to wash over her again. His thumb reached for his lips again, those soft, teasing lips. She shook the thought away. Emotions! They were friends; they could only be friends, couldn’t they?
“You sure you want to hear the answer?” When she nodded her ascent he carried on, cursing his big mouth all the while. “Um, well, you would paint it on and em, then lick it off.” Now why did that suddenly sound stupid? The look of surprise on her face was worth the discomfort he was feeling.
“I see, and is this another of your Earth’s traditions?”
“Well, we don’t go round doing it to everyone, only the ones that you make lo... Recreate with.” He corrected quickly. Too quickly.
“Oh, right, yes,” Why was she unexpectedly embarrassed with this discussion? She changed the subject “And dancing? What is that about then?”
He smiled, remembering her touch, her mouth on his. “That’s just for fun.”
“And painting the body is not?”
Was she deliberately trying to take the conversation to a place neither of them was sure of? Should he try and return it to safe ground? Testing his theory he spoke again. “Yes, painting the body with a food substance is fun too. It’s a lot of fun. For both parties involved.”
She nodded in understanding. “I liked the dancing.”
Did that mean she would like the body paint? He picked at the food looking at her, contemplating his next words. “Then you would definitely enjoy the body paint.” The underlying message was clear. It would be up to her to either ignore the comment or counter it.
“Maybe I would. Maybe we might get to find out. When it is our time.”
Checkmate. He couldn’t keep the smile from adorning his lips. Couldn’t keep the feeling of hope that was lifting his heart. “Maybe we will.”
The guard appeared rapping his hands on the bars, getting both of their attention. “Your people are here.”
Both turned back to the other smiling, the hope got bigger as he watched her rise holding out her hand, seeking out his whispering “Bad frelling timing, some things never change.”
