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“Oops!”
He could not believe this! He had just spent the past several arns diving head first into wormholes, experiencing the multiplex purgatories of unrealized realities at ‘Einstein’s’ insistence, watching his friends die or be killed because of him. Why did all the seers, mystics, and registered mind-frellers in the universe feel they had to show him the deaths of his friends and loved ones to get his attention? He had heard about the galactic-sized ripples in space/time he was capable of creating, and had wondered if the Father of All Ancients was going to cash his chips in for him. Diving through wormholes without a ship. And here he was, back at Earth, the very place he’d been trying to get to for the past three cycles. Years. But was he on Earth? No. Was he even in a frelling ship? Hell, no! He was floating in a suit out about satellite distance without even a Bic to flick to signal a passing shuttle. If there even was a shuttle up here right now.
“Well, D. Looks like we don’t have to worry about that little drug problem any more!” There’s never a dying Leviathan around when you need one. Well, almost never. Elack’s not gonna save your ass this time, farmboy!
Let’s see. What had Einstein tried to drill into his deficient little human brain? Focus. Screwing up reality could be bad. Fix the most obvious problem first then get the hell out of Dodge. But how was he to know if reality was screwed up? Aside from the frelling obvious -- absence of a ship. That was definitely a big screw up for him personally, but for the universe? Doubtful. The universe would probably do a little happy dance when John Robert Crichton was finally out of her hair.
‘Her hair.’ Aeryn. Aeryn had scented her hair for him, once. Once. That scent had haunted his dreams for monens after. Hell, it still haunted his dreams. Day dreams, night dreams, didn’t matter. He could be sitting there, lost in thought, analyzing wormhole data for arns -- hours -- and suddenly the memory of that scent, those few short microts in his module, would waft through his brain out of the blue. A ray of sunshine. Or a ray of Sun shine. The taste of her mouth, the silk of her hair, the firm roundness of a breast against his chest as she had turned to him. Damn! He shoulda brought some lakka with him. Not that it would do him any good in a suit. Maybe he could hang some in his helmet, like the fuzzy dice under the rear view mirror of a 68 Chevy.
Okay, okay. This was not helping. This was not telling him what he did wrong, although checking out while daydreaming of the radiant Aeryn Sun was not a bad way to go. He could think of lots worse. Massive radiation poisoning being one, although at least the other guy had died in her arms. Not that route for him, though. Nope. Alone in a frelling suit floating around Earth with the TV satellites! He wondered if there’d be anything left by the time anyone found him. Or would his orbit decay. Would he make a big enough shooting star for his dad to see it down on Earth? He would run out of air long before having to worry about that. In fact, it was starting to get a bit thin already.
What had gone wrong? Einstein had said ‘Focus’ and focus he had, with all his might. Focus on Moya, his home for the past three cycles -- years. Uh oh. Moya. Home. Moya equals home equals Earth. Oh, not good! “Screwed up again, John!” Oh, well. At least Aeryn wouldn’t have to revise her opinion of him. Aeryn.
Again the memory of that scent. He wondered. Was it a stronger emotion, did it evoke a stronger response in him than Moya? Hell, yeah! He loved Moya but she’d never given him a hard on just from being near her. Talk about your strong responses! Could he get back to Moya if he held the memory of Aeryn in his heart, if he held that elusive scent he’d cherish til his dying day (“Which may be sooner than we think, folks!”) tight in his thoughts while zoomin’ through the wormhole?
Good thoughts, John, but first you need a wormhole. Well, since the system spat him out here, it made sense that there was a doorway around here somewhere. Problem was, he couldn’t see it or sense it. Of course, it could just appear without him sensing it. Like that day right before the plant started eating Moya when he thought he’d known where it was but it hadn’t appeared on time, only to show up just when Aeryn wanted to talk to him. Aeryn wanting to talk. Now there was a first. He’d gotten a rush just from the look on her face as she’d asked if she could talk with him, that hopeful little smile. Hope had exploded in his chest until that frelling wormhole had made its belated appearance. Worse than having an annoying little brother come and interrupt your date just when you were getting to the good part. If he’d had a quarter he would have told it to take a hike.
Damn! Back to Aeryn again. He’d have to keep his mind clear of her until and unless he found that swirling blue doorway again. At least the lakka dulled that sensation and helped clear his mind. All he had to do was get the wormhole to reappear. And then maneuver himself close enough to get sucked in. Now how the hezmana was he supposed to do that? Clap his hands? It had worked for Tinkerbell, but he had his doubts about wormholes.
Tinkerbell. Chiana was his Tink. Beautiful, brave, devoted, selfish. A magpie’s fascination with snurching pretty things. He really loved Pip. Too bad he wasn’t gonna get to see her again to tell her so. She deserved to know he loved her, even if it wasn’t the way she wanted.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. Yup! O two definitely getting a bit thin. He wondered how much he had left and what the periodicity of this particular wormhole door was. On second thought, maybe it would be better to keep Aeryn in his thoughts now, just in case, just in case... Just in case what? Oh, yeah. Wormhole. Aeryn. Well, that part should be easy, if painful. Let’s just work our way through the wonder years, the Aeryn years, while we wait for a wormhole which will probably never appear... Aeryn.
Okay. ‘First time we met. Me naked on the floor, she still unconscious in her flight suit complete with helmet, while I chit-chatted with Sparky.’ No, that wasn’t right. ‘I didn’t try to talk to Buckwheat til after I got my clothes on.’ Then she woke up. Or had she been shamming? Had she watched him while he lay there naked, sizing him up so to speak? That thought brought a grin to his face. Then he had introduced himself and gotten the crap kicked out of him. The more recent version had been much more satisfying for his macho self-image, when he had blocked her, blow for blow, telling her he’d learned from the best : “You!” And she’d gotten that look on her face, that sexy look of curiosity, eyes smoldering with questions, leaning closer, setting him on fire with the brush of her breath across his face, feeling that magical connection drawing taut between them, and causing something else to draw his pants taut. Until the pain of her sucker punch had brought him abruptly back to reality and he’d found her sitting on his chest once again. Even then, he hadn’t known when to quit pushing her. “What you really need to ask yourself is how I know about the birthmark on the sweet spot of your hip.” He could still feel the sharp, stabbing twist as she’d broken his neck. But he’d been sittin’ pretty til then. “Baby, you had me from ‘Hello’!”
Okay. Next most memorable Aeryn highlight. First kiss. Fake Earth? No, that was another first. First things first. Kiss. Transport pod. Flying lesson. Flax. She’d killed him that time, too. ‘Course, she slayed him every time she smiled at him, but that time she’d really killed him. Then she’d given up her chance at life to bring him back so she wouldn’t have to die alone. He’d teased her about her training then. “I thought Peacekeepers were trained to fight alone, die alone.” “Well, it appears my training has failed me. I don’t want to die alone.” That training may have failed her, but she sure knew how to kiss. He wondered who’d trained her for that. He owed someone a big thank you for that. Or had it just come naturally?
Second first. Two-one. Adults only. No one under 21. The end of the innocence. Ancients. False Earth. Rain. Thunderstorm without, hormone storm within. The birthmark on her hip, seen in flashes of lightning as he’d studied her, trying to memorize every square inch of her skin with his lips. So soft. Skin so soft. No mosquito bites that night! And that magical spot on her inner thigh that made her arch off the bed with a wordless cry when his lips found it, her passionate reaction to him driving him insane with need for her, and he’d had to keep himself under tight control to keep from slamming into her right then and ending it all too soon.
Oh, God, even now, after all these painful cycles with her and without her, he still dreamed of that night, fantasized about it, Monday-morning quarterbacked it. Things he’d do differently if he ever had the chance. If he was a bit more rested ahead of time. They’d spent half the night making love, exploring each other’s body, learning delicious alien ways of lovemaking from each other, which hadn’t really been so different from what they’d known. After all, if the plumbing was similar, there were bound to be similarities in the techniques for getting it hooked up. It hadn’t been a quickie, but it had been over far too quickly and they’d collapsed into each others arms to sleep in warm companionship for the remainder of the night. He was so aroused now just by remembering...
Hypoxia. Arousal. Uh oh. Must be getting close. Breathing rapidly, shallowly. Starting to drift. He needed to get his suit off so he could breathe. He was suffocating in his suit. Struggling, fumbling for the zipper. He’d struggled to get her suit off once. Aeryn. Think of Aeryn. Beautiful. Radiant. Aeryn.
“Aeryn,” he gasped, so short of breath he didn’t know if he was actually making a sound. “Aeryn... love you... sorry...didn’t...”
“John?” A voice in his dreams. Now there’s a familiar face, voice. A blast from the past. “John! Are you there? Where are you? John! Keep talking! Keep your comms open! Talk to me! John!”
“Aeryn,” he whispered. “So glad... here for me, too... at the end...”
“John, I’m here!! Keep talking! D’Argo! Do you have a fix on him yet? Can you see him?”
“Not yet! Keep him talking!”
“John! Listen to me! You’ve got to keep talking. Talk to me John! John?”
“No. Hurts... hurts too much... talk... think...”
“I don’t care how much it hurts! You’ve got to talk to me! Don’t you give up on me, Crichton, or I’ll kick your sorry, inferior human ass from here to Moya. Talk!”
“Aeryn?... Aeryn?... Sorry... Love... you...” His voice trailed off, too weak to continue. Sleep. Perchance...
Cool... Soft and cool. A hand on his face. The dream of warm lips on his, the breath of her life into starving lungs. The life of her breath. Cool hand. Cool hand Aeryn. ‘What we got here is a failure to communicate!’
“John?” Soft. Tentative. “John? Can you open your eyes?” Open his eyes? Sure. Did he want to? No. A dream. An hypoxic dream of death. Better not to look. Better the dream of her than reality without. He smiled at his dream.
“John. I know you’re in there. Open your eyes and look at me.”
“Nope.”
Hands on his face. Two cool hands. Demanding. “Why not?” Exasperation in the voice.
“Nice dream.”
“It’s not a dream. Open your eyes and look at me.”
“No. Dream.” He smiled at his dream. Something lifted his hand, placing it gently on a soft wet surface. A cheek?
“Wet,” he said.
Amusement. “Yes, wet. How often are your dreams wet?”
“Pretty often.”
“Tsk. How often do dreams feel like this?” His hand was moved to another surface, warm, firm. He cupped the roundness, thumb running across to a sharp intake of breath. “Or like this?” Lips on his, the taste of Aeryn on his lips.
“Aeryn,” he gasped, opening his eyes when she released his mouth. Gorgeous sapphire eyes denches from his own. “Where are we?” She pulled back to show him a very Earth-like motel room. “How...?”
“Lo’la,” she told him. “D’Argo, Chiana and I followed you into the wormhole and wound up near Earth. We were searching for you, D’Argo up in orbit, Chiana and I down here, when you commed me. D’Argo managed to pick you up just as your suit ran out of air, and we decided you’d be better off down here with me, in case you needed medical attention. But why didn’t you answer when we commed you in the first place?”
“I wasn’t here then. I didn’t get here til later.”
“Then where were you in the meantime?”
“Learning about wormholes from yet another god-like alien. I wound up here looking for Moya.”
“Well then, you’re way off bait because Moya is still in Tormented Space.”
“ ‘Base’, Aeryn. ‘Way off base.’ Where’s Pip?”
“Out buying more food.”
“With what? Where’d you get money?”
“Umm.” She looked away from him, uncomfortable.
“You stole it,” he said flatly.
“Look, John, we’re stuck in enemy territory and it’s perfectly sound strategy to secure enemy currency to finance a rescue and recovery. They’ll never miss it because Chiana didn’t take much from any one person.”
“You think.”
“I know. Because I told her if the authorities caught her I would leave her where she was until I was ready to go.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve got everything well in hand.”
“Except for you,” she said so softly he thought he’d dreamed it. A quicksilver change of mood. “Are you hungry? We’ve got some food. Chocolate! I made sure we bought chocolate for you.”
He’d been about to tell her no, he wasn’t hungry, until she mentioned chocolate. “Yeah. I’d like some chocolate. Thanks for remembering.” He sat up as she moved from his side and his hip grew cold in the absence of hers. And then she was back, handing him a Hershey bar. A real, honest-to-God Hershey bar. His fingers were too unsteady to unwrap it neatly and he shoved half of it in his mouth before remembering his manners. “Have you tried it yet?”
She shook her head. “We were saving it for you.”
He broke off a piece and held it out to her. “Here. You came all this way. You gotta try it.” And instead of taking it from him with her fingers, she bent down to let him put it directly into her mouth, eyes never leaving his. He looked at his fingers stained with melted chocolate and moved his fingers to his own mouth to lick it off, but her hand on his stopped him.
Looking steadily into his eyes, she took his hand in hers and proceeded to gently suck the chocolate off each finger, tongue teasing in its thoroughness, while his own tongue licked some off his lips. Then she said “You missed a spot,” indicating the corner of his mouth, and moved to bathe his lips with her own, as his mouth opened slightly in fascination. Apparently he had chocolate in the back of his throat, too. Her hands had moved down his chest to his waist before he caught her wrists firmly in his grasp. She pulled back, disappointment clear in her eyes, but trying hard not to let him see it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, contritely.
“Aeryn. Is this what you want? With things still so strained between us? Another quickie on Earth?”
She flinched at his choice of words and he felt a pang of guilt for hurting her. “No. This is not what I want. But if it’s the only way I can have you, then I’ll take it. I don’t know how else to get through to you and I almost lost you again today. I do not want to go another day without...” she faltered.
“Without recreating?” he asked harshly.
Anger, hot and sharp like lightning in those stormy blue eyes, the sight taking him abruptly back to the memory of lightning reflected in her eyes cycles ago. “Without you!” she corrected him, and in the face of her fury, some of his own abated and he reached for her face in apology. She froze, like a deer in the headlights, and he could see the confusion behind her eyes. His hand reached of its own accord around to the back of her neck, fingers playing with the finest, silkiest hairs found there.
“When’s Pip due back?” he asked softly, drawing her lips to his.
“She’s not,” she whispered against his mouth. “I rented her her own room earlier. That’s why she was shopping for more food.”
He nuzzled her nose and lips, and smiled gently. “Sounds like you have everything under control then.”
“Except for you,” she repeated softly.
“Even me, Baby. You had me from ‘Hello’!”. Then he returned her lips to his and the mystery of his arrival near Earth was made clear to him. Moya equals home equals Aeryn. He had exited the wormhole where she was. Suddenly he knew he had returned his heart to her keeping. And, he thought with a smile, certain other parts of his body. He was home at last.
