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Time; doesn't really matter
Spoilers; probably not
Disclaimer; all the usual stuff, but I admit to lifting shamelessly from the work of the late Eric Thompson
It was one of those rare days on Moya; a day off.
They were fully stocked, fed and watered, maintenance tasks were done, and no-one in the immediate vicinity was trying to kill them.
And they were bored. . .
"You wanna show me that manoeuvre again?" John grinned hopefully.
Aeryn appraised him thoughtfully for a long microt. "Sure!" She flashed a rare smile.
'Uh oh,' John thought, 'I may be in trouble here.'
Aeryn was already heading purposefully for the hangar. By the time John caught her up she was prepping the Prowler and clambering aboard. "Come on Commander. Show me what you can do."
He hopped into the Farscape module.
They raced each other out of the hangar.
As they swooped and chased through black space, honours were almost even. Their trajectories took them ever further from Moya, until the Leviathan powered up and began slowly to follow their darting forms.
They came into a scatter of planetoids - pretty primary-coloured planetoids.
"OK, Officer Sun. Let's try this in atmosphere - find me a rock with air."
That was one useful system she had managed to keep functioning on the Prowler.
They swooped towards a medium-sized blue-green sphere.
The clouds were small and fluffy; the sun a bright yellow ball.
Smooth sided canyons, perfect conical mountains, provided an aerial playground for a while. Rather than admit that, even in atmosphere, Aeryn had the edge, John said, "We have a choice, back to Moya for food cubes for lunch - or see what the locals eat?"
Aeryn glanced at the gentle terrain. "Why not?" she said, and made a perfect landing by a grove of trees. "Structures over that way," she pointed, as John joined her.
They strolled.
"Erm . . Aeryn, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
"Hmm mmm. I think so. What are you seeing??"
"I'm seeing toon town. I'm seeing - " he walked around one of the weird, stumpy trees. "Yep! I'm seeing two dimensional trees, in technicolour. And cardboard-cutout flowers."
"Allowing for the confusion you cause my translator microbes - that's what I am seeing too. Is it . . ." Aeryn hesitated to ask the question that was bursting to be asked. "Is it real - do you suppose?" She jumped up and down experimentally on the flat, off-white ground. It held.
"It's like some weird '70s trip -" John muttered - " just needs some dude in flares to show up."
They skirted a 2D tree. "Hey, man. . ." said a huge rabbit - wearing flares.
"Harvey!?" said John.
"Dylan," said Dylan.
"You guys OK?" Chiana's voice came over the comms. "I'm not interrupting, you know, a little planetside R 'n R?" She gave her odd giggle. "D'Argo said I shouldn't call."
"No, no, it's fine, Pip. Just, um, a little weird."
"Whaddaya mean?" Chi said, all curiosity. "Dangerous-weird?"
"No, no, I think it's just strange-weird. We'll let you know . . ."
* * *
It took bare microts for Chiana to drag D'Argo to a transport pod. No-one was going to have strange-weird times without Nerri's little sister!
* * *
There was a commotion in the distance. Aeryn's and John's eyes met, they nodded briefly and marched off towards it. When did our heroes ever run from trouble? When will they learn? The rabbit picked up his guitar and ambled after them, humming.
"This cannot be real," John said.
Aeryn's eyebrows moved a spillet closer together.
It looked like a carousel, a rather small one, with wooden horses to ride.
A motley bunch were crowded round it, squabbling.
Dylan ambled up. "Too bad, man. The Roundabout - it's like, busted, man. . ." he explained.
"It's the grunge sprockets, I tell you," said the being shaped like a snail. He wore a pork pie hat and a muffler.
"Foolish mollusc," said the low-slung hairy one. "It's the fur-lined quonkers."
"Canine," said the mollusc, "You know nothing."
"Hello," said someone who looked like a girl - sort of. "Are you the repair men?"
"Erm - " said John.
"We should leave -" muttered Aeryn, hovering watchfully.
"No, no. Wait. They might have the Froonium we need," said John.
"Do they look like repair men?" said someone with a large spring where his legs should be. "No cloth caps . . ."
"No oversized overalls," agreed the long, low dog, whose name was Dougal.
"No floppy moustaches," said Brian the mollusc.
"To say nothing of not both being males," a familiar voice chipped in. Chiana had arrived, a grumpy D'Argo in tow. "Can we mend it?" she asked. "Can we help?" Chi turned her big black eyes on John.
"We?"
"Come on, you're supposed to be this big scientist man . ."
"Dear heart," said Ermintrude, ruminating on a flower. "That would be divine. Could you . . .?"
Not accustomed to being addressed by someone who looked like a cow - a pink cow in a sun hat - John was stumped for a moment.
"So, what sort of denizen are you?" Dougal asked sniffily. "Your proportions are all wrong."
John surveyed himself and thought his proportions were as fine as ever. "Well, I'm not Sebacean," he began.
"Quite, quite," Dougal interrupted, and trundled off, losing all interest. He appeared to cover the ground without any leg movement whatever.
"Jumping beans!" exclaimed the spring-based person. "What have we here?" His huge eyes were fixed on Aeryn's leather-trousered thigh.
"That, she said, hand hovering defensively by the trigger, "is my pulse pistol."
"That will never do . . ." There was an imperceptible twitch of his moustache, which happened to be magic. "That's better. Far more useful." he said.
Puzzled, Aeryn found she was now packing a gardening trowel.
"Maldis . . .?" John said, suspiciously.
"Zebedee," said Zebedee.
"Excellent," said another little man - the one with the long white beard and big straw hat, called Mr MacHenry ( the man, not the hat, nor the beard, naturally). He leaped astride his three-wheeled pedal vehicle. "You can help me cultivate the loofah trees."
With a shrug Aeryn balanced on the axle behind him, and he pedalled off to the loofah grove. It was a chance to check out the terrain, she thought, clinging desperately to the shreds of her training.
Crichton found that his own holster now contained a useful 'Ozme Roundabout Repair Multi-tool'. Surrendering to the inevitable he dived into the mechanical wreckage.
"Hey - grey girl, man - care to, like, see the magic mushroom patch?" Dylan mumbled.
"Right," she grinned, taking his arm.
Within half an arn the Roundabout was fully functional again. John emerged from its innards, wiping his hands on an old black tee-shirt.
"Thank you, thank you," they all said. "Now the garden can get back to normal again."
"Normal . . .?" John said, "what's normal?"
He caught sight of D'Argo and laughed out loud.
"Hey, big D - that's one hell of a French stick . .!"
D'Argo swung round to where John appeared to be looking, tentacles whipping round after him.
"Here, dude," John laughed.
He reached to where the qualta blade was supposed to be, and produced three feet of baguette.
"Oh!" said Florence (the sort-of-girl person), with admiration. "That's handy. We can all have tea."
John spoke into his comms badge. The centre appeared to be growing a trumpet shape, like a small daffodil.
"Very fetching," Brian told him.
"That's it, getting into the mode. Flowers are a motif here," Dougal said.
"Better get back here, guys," John commed. "Feed time."
* * *
Back on Moya, Rygel picked up the signal and prepped another transport pod. The Dominar of the Hynerian Empire was not going to miss out on a feast.
* * *
"All back to Dougal's house," Brian said chirpilly.
"Cup of tea, anyone," Dougal offered, scoffing a sugar cube.
"I'd rather have a beer," John said.
"You'll have tea and like it." Dougal said.
"I'll have tea, but I won't like it," John told him.
"There is Elderflower wine, dear boy" Ermintrude offered serenely.
"Cake, anyone?" Florence asked, pushing in a trolley laden with them.
John's eyes went huge and round. "Is that, is that CHOCOLATE CAKE?"
"Naturally," said Florence.
"Aeryn!" he shouted into his comms, now quietly growing little green leaves. "You gotta get back here for this, hon."
"I'm here," she said quietly behind him. "Mr MacHenry's just parking his trike."
"You look really good with that flower behind you ear," he said.
Aeryn smiled and sat down on the floor beside him. They had run out of chairs.
Chiana ambled in with Dylan," Hey, John, man, you gotta check out the mushroom grove," she drawled. She curled up in the corner with the spaced-out rabbit. D'Argo gave a hurrumph of disgust. He picked up Dylan's guitar and started strumming.
Rygel floated in on his throne sled. "Four lumps for me, please," he said.
And there was Stark, making those adoring eyes at Ermintrude. "You're very - beautiful - " he said.
"Dear heart," Ermintrude blushed. "Too kind."
"How'd he get here," John muttered to Aeryn.
She shrugged. "Where does he ever appear from . . .?" she said.
They sat around happily eating tea and cake.
With a 'boi-i-i-nng' Zebedee reappeared.
"Time for bed," said Zebedee.
Several people smiled.
They complied with alacrity.
They were very tired (you naughty shippers).
* * *
And that was it, really. They never left the enchanted garden. Moya played, never bored, among the pretty planetoids - ever changing, ever the same.
Music drifted from the spheres, on the edge of hearing, weird, seductive -
Dah di di dah dah;
Da da da da dah dah . . .
Anything else you think you saw happen to our heroes was a product of your own fevered imagination.
