Dark Waters Rated NC-17 Aeryn / John | 61KB | Archived 01.16.00
Spoilers: Nerve & Hidden Memory
Summary: This story takes place shortly after Gilina dies helping John escape from Gammack Base where Scorpius was questioning him in the Aurora Chair. Part two of Tyger! Tyger!DISCLAIMER: Farscape, the characters therein and all associated names and symbols are the exclusive property of Jim Henson and the Sci-Fi Channel, yada, yada, yada. I’m just borrowing them for a while. No harm intended.
* * * * *
"Gilina is dead." Crichton's voice was somber, his face lined with sorrow - and something else. "She died helping us escape." He nodded at the unseen Gammack Base on the far side of the planet seperating them from it.
Stark, John's cellmate from the Base, looked up. "Did she hang onto the image I gave her?"
"Yeah." He started to say something more, hesitated, then shrugged. "Yeah," he said again.
Aeryn felt an unexpected pang at the obvious torment on John's face. Had Gilina meant that much to him? And even if she did, why should she care? But she found she couldn't look at him. She turned away to busy herself at the command console. "Then she died well. Our return to Moya appears to have gone undetected." Even to her, her voice sounded unnecessarily gruff.
Zhaan stifled a sigh. Why did Crichton and Aeryn persist in avoiding the truth of what was growing between them? Gilina's feelings for John were no secret. She'd seen it in her eyes as she lay dying. But John and Aeryn's feeling for each other weren't secret either - except to them apparently.
Rygel, oblivious as always, snorted disparagingly. "Then we should get rid of the body before it stinks the place up. We've got enough problems without adding a foul stench to the air."
Zhaan watched with amusement as John and Aeryn, moving as one, snatched the little Dominar out of his chair, one on each arm.
"What? How dare you! Put me down this instant!" Rygel yelled in outraged fear, his only emotion besides arrogance.
"I've had it with you," John snarled. "If it wasn't for Gilina we would have all died on the Zelbinion when the Sheyangs attacked!"
"Which makes twice that she's saved my life!" Aeryn added in a dangerous voice.
"You're going out the airlock---"
"Without a suit---"
"No! You can't! I am Rygel the---"
"Sixteenth, Dominar of the Hynerian Empire, yeah we know, and soon to become dog food!" John finished for him. "D'Argo, open the hatch. Short stuff here is going for a walk!"
"Gladly," the huge Luxan said with a grim smile.
Rygel's eyebrows climbed into the stratosphere. "Nooo!"
Chiana leaned down to smile in his face. "Yeees!" she mimicked.
Stark turned to Zhaan as the Hynerian was hustled screaming off the command deck. "Are they really going to space him?" he asked uncertainly.
Zhaan shrugged. "I wouldn't blame them too much if they did. He's been nothing but trouble." They heard a distant 'clang', cutting off Rygel's screams. "Pilot, have they spaced him?"
"They have forced him into one of the airlocks, Zhaan, but they have not opened the outer door," Pilot returned calmly. "It's quite dark in there. Should I turn on the lights for him?"
"No!" John's voice cracked like a whip. "Let the runt sweat for a while. Maybe it'll teach him a lesson."
Zhaan arched an eyebrow. "Do you really think so, John?"
He considered it briefly then grinned. "Probably a snowball's chance in Hell."
Aeryn gave him a tired look that said, 'Another Human expression?'. "That little weasel will never learn."
"That's what I said."
* * * * *
Gilina's funeral was a somber affair, held on Moya's aft flight deck. A cargo tube was pressed into service as a coffin. John had taken something he called a mini-boombox up to Pilot with instructions to play some music throughout the ship at his signal. The small group, minus Rygel, gathered around the launcher that held the makeshift coffin.
John ran his eyes over them. "Gilina helped us when she had no reason to trust us, put her career on the line to save Aeryn's life and my sanity, then gave her life to let all of us escape to freedom. However short a time we knew her, she was a friend - a friend we will miss."
He's done this before, Aeryn thought, watching him intone the words over Gilina. He's seen friends die before, and said the right words over them. He had the look of someone performing a well known, painful, duty. He stood rigid in the universal position of attention, eyes straight ahead. What was he seeing, she wondered? What other friends was he remembering? Moya had turned so the launcher would send Gilina's remains into the local sun. The golden light framed him against the darkened interior of the flight deck. Her heart stumbled inside her at the sight.
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We commit this body to the deep in the hopes that she finds a better world in the next life. From the stars we came, to the stars we return." He flipped a switch. With a soft whoosh the coffin slid away from the ship.
He saluted stiffly as mournful music filled the vast chamber. A single instrument, a horn from the sound of it, played a slow, sad melody, distant and far away. A dirge for the dead, Aeryn thought, wondering that John had brought such music with him. She copied his salute. From the corner of her eye she saw D'Argo doing the same.
The music ended on a long, drawn out note. John snapped his arm down to his side. Aeryn and D'Argo followed suit. They paused, unsure what to do but John walked away from them to the edge of the flight deck, standing at parade rest as he watched the coffin dwindle in the distance.
Aeryn started as Zhaan touched her lightly on the shoulder. "We should go now. Leave him be for a while." D'Argo and Stark were already heading back into the ship with an uncharacteristically quiet Chiana in tow.
She started to nod then changed her mind. "No. You go ahead. I'll stay with him." Even as she said it she wondered why. What was there about the Human that tugged at her so?
Zhaan gave her a searching look. "Be sure Aeryn, be very sure of what you are doing."
Aeryn felt a surge of irritation. She shook off Zhaan's hand. "If I need any advice, I'll ask for it. Besides, I know exactly what I'm doing." She backed away from her.
The Delvian was troubled. "Do you? Do you really?"
"Of course," she snapped. "I'm standing with a comrade-in-arms to watch the passing of one who died nobly." Was she? Then why did it sound like a lie to her own ears?
Zhaan shook her head sadly as she turned away. Aeryn still didn't understand, and she and John could get hurt by that. She paused in the doorway trying to think of something to say, but Aeryn had turned back to the Human.
Zhaan was already gone from Aeryn's thoughts. What was she doing? Why was she staying here with John? She found it strange that she no longer thought of him as 'the Human', only as John. When she first met him she'd been outraged by his constant attempts at humor, his ignorance of their ways, his blind, almost arrogant insistence on leading them as if it was his right by birth.
And yet . . .
And yet he was often right. His instinctive reaction to the Vorcarion Blood-Trackers had seemed the height of folly to her as he stood there with a gun at his head snarling at them to back off from his bounty. Then they had! and he explained later they were pack hunters who would always follow a strong leader. How many other times had he been right? How many of their adventures would they have survived without him, without his stubborn refusal to quit?
His shallowness was an illusion, a mirage. Behind it were hidden depths. It was like stepping into a puddle only to find yourself up to your chest in deep, cold water. It was shocking - unexpected. The more so because the illusion was so perfect.
The defining moment for her was when they were trapped in the Flax and he volunteered to die so their oxygen supply could be fixed. The needle with the revival medicine to bring him back to life had been dropped, shattered on the deck and she found herself using his mouth-to-mouth technique instead. It worked, but her repairs on the air supply hadn't. Running out of air, about to die, they had turned to each other in heated passion. If D'Argo hadn't intervened they would have consummated it. She had been in similar situations before and never turned to a man like that. Why with him?
Later they both agreed it was merely the heat of the moment, but she heard the regret in his voice as surely as she felt it herself. Why? She was no blushing virgin. What did she think she had missed?
For that matter, why was she here now? What did she hope to accomplish? Did she think she could find out what she'd mis---. No. She stopped herself before she could complete the thought. She wasn't going down that road.
"John." Her voice was so soft she almost didn't recognize it, wondered whether he could hear her.
"Yeah?"
He had heard her, and now she was trapped. She almost panicked. "You've . . . you've done this before - haven't you?"
"What? Buried a friend?" He tried to laugh but it didn't come out right. "Yeah, you could say that." He continued to gaze out at the stars. She thought he was done and started to go when he spoke again. "It was during the Gulf War. The second or third one, I don't remember anymore. Doesn't matter." His voice was a dull monotone. "There was a city that had to be taken. It was fortified; heavy artillery, anti-aircraft batteries, dug in emplacements - everything. We couldn't send in fighters, aircraft, to bomb the artillery because of the anti-aircraft guns and we couldn't send in ground troops because of the artillery." He shrugged fractionally. "So they sent in troops." His hands behind his back clenched until his knuckle turned white. "They walked into a meat grinder." She had never heard the phrase before, but she knew instantly what it meant. He was still talking. "I was flying recon over a different city when they called for help. There weren't any other aircraft in the area except my squadron, on the ground for R&R. I called them on the radio, ordered them to go in."
Aeryn swallowed hard, suddenly glad he wasn't looking at her. She knew what was coming. The illusion was falling away again.
He nodded agreement, almost as if he could see her. "Twelve men. Randy, Brad, Wolfman - the rest. They did their jobs, did what I told them, saved a lot of lives. The next day . . . we buried them - what was left. Nine of the coffins were empty. There wasn't anything to put in them."
Aeryn closed her eyes at the pain in his voice, raw and bleeding. She remembered similar empty coffins from her own past.
"It's funny. It was a beautiful day, sun shining, not a cloud in the sky. The kind of day that makes you glad to be alive. A perfect day for a picnic. Instead we stood on the bow of the ship and sent twelve coffins into the deep. There wasn't a sound anywhere; just the water lapping at the ship and a bugler playing Taps." Aeryn understood that was the melody he'd played for Gilina. "That's the loneliest, goddamn sound in the world. It hurts."
Lonely was a good word for it. He was right, she thought. It did hurt. "Yes, it does," she whispered.
"What hurts even more is that people wait too long to say things they should have said before," he said, wheeling about suddenly to stare at her with a peculiar expression on his face.
Her chest constricted suddenly. The illusion was gone completely and she was looking at the man she knew he really was. The curtains had been pulled back revealing the dark waters waiting for her to take the plunge.
"Gilina waited too long," he said flatly. "I'm not going to make that mistake."
Terror clutched her by the throat. Did she want to hear what she could see in his eyes? Could she survive if he said it? Could she survive if he didn't? The dark waters were everywhere, surrounding her, threatening to drag her under. No, she thought wildly, not now! Not here! I can't! Zhaan, you were right, I didn't know what I was doing.
"I love you, Aeryn."
Her heart stopped.
. . . oh . . . god . . .
She couldn't breath. She couldn't think. Her whole body was numb, tingling, aching for . . . what? The dark waters were rising on all sides. She was drowning. She tried desperately to look anywhere but at him. She couldn't get away. His eyes grabbed her and held her and began pulling her down.
She tried to talk, tell him no . . . yes . . . anything.
She couldn't move.
He was coming closer. How could he do that without moving his legs? She didn't understand; how could he come to her when he was standing still? There was darkness everywhere. It was as if he was the only light in the world. She couldn't see anything but him.
She saw her arms slide around his neck and understood dimly that she had gone to him. Then their lips met and the dark waters closed over her.
They weren't cold, she realized.
Not cold at all.
* * * * *
She woke up to find him watching her.
The sheets were twisted around them in a tangled knot. Beyond his shoulder she saw their clothes scattered around her room. When she moved she felt his legs against hers. Their arms were wrapped around each other, their lips scant inches apart. Under her the bed was damp. She flushed as she considered the only possible source.
His eyes were bright and twinkling. His face was completely open; no shields, no illusions. His lips curled up in his crooked smile as he watched the various expressions playing across her face. "Good morning."
She became aware that her breasts were pressed tightly against him. One of his hands was lightly caressing her hip, sliding around to her buttocks then up to the small of her back and back to her hip again. Her skin tingled where his fingers touched her. What could she possibly say to him? He'd told her he loved her. She hadn't answered him.
Couldn't answer him.
She'd been taught that love was for weaklings, an unnecessary encumbrance that warriors didn't need. All her life had been geared toward combat, self-control, iron discipline. Orders, duties, lines of battle, weapons, body counts - these were the things that circumscribed her life. They gave her purpose and direction. Love had become a dim memory from her childhood, cast off along with all her other childish toys. She had had other sex partners before; love had never been a part of it, only physical release. She didn't need love.
She didn't want it.
So why couldn't she tell him that?
"Crichton, why am I laying on the wet spot?" She tried to keep it light.
She saw the surprise and hurt in his face, quickly masked. "Because there aren't any dry spots," he replied in the same tone.
She thought back to last night. How many times? She bit her lip as she remembered screaming his name over and over. Gods, everyone on board would know. She had never been the quiet type but her memory told her she'd made enough noise for three women. She couldn't believe the things he'd done to her. Who'd have ever thought to use their lips and tongue, down there? And he'd taught her to do the same thing to him. His taste was still in her mouth, sending shivers down her spine at the unexpected pleasure she'd found in it.
"Oh."
She tried to think of something to say to break the awkward silence that grew after that. She cast about blindly. "We must have slept a long time," she finally ventured. "I'm as rested as I've ever been." It occurred to her that she did feel good, ready to go out and take on the world.
He looked at the timepiece he wore on his wrist and called a 'watch'. "Not that long. Only about two hou--- arns."
Aeryn was shocked. "Two arns! That's impossible. I feel as if I've been sleeping for days!"
John smiled smugly at her. "Being in love does that to you. It makes you feel like you're ready to go out and take on the world."
Aeryn suppressed a gasp of disbelief as he echoed the exact words that were running through her mind. Love couldn't do that! Love made you weak, not strong. Everyone knew that. "Crichton, be reasonable. We spent arns having sex. We should be exhausted."
"If it was just sex you'd be right," he grinned at her. "But it wasn't. We were making love - and that's different."
"No," she snapped. "I refuse to believe that."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you refuse to believe that making love is different than having sex? Why do you refuse to believe we were making love?"
"Crichton, they are absolutely identical activities. You think they're different when in fact those are just two different ways of saying exactly the same thing."
His eyes widened innocently. "Really?"
Her guard went up instantly. He was being too smooth, too agreeable. "Really," she said cautiously.
"Well then, why do you feel so good?"
She'd known there was some trickery coming and it still caught her off guard. She opened and closed her mouth several times without saying anything. "Because, because . . . uh." She squeezed her eyes shut. Her head was whirling. Damn him! Why did he have to twist everything around? Why did everything have to be his way? And why the hell did she feel so good? He was waiting. She had to tell him something! She opened her eyes and found him watching her with that unguarded expression that knocked all her defenses into a cocked hat. She sensed the dark waters surging around her again, higher and more dangerous than before because now she knew what lay beneath them. "Because of the medicine Gilina got for me." It was a lame attempt and she knew it. What was worse, he knew it too. She could see it in his eyes.
He shook his head. "Nope. Try again, my love."
"Don't call me that!"
"Fine. I love you, Aeryn. Try again."
"Damn you!"
His hand had left her hip and was moving down between her legs trailing fire along it's path. Her stomach muscles shuddered uncontrollably and she felt her breathing deepen. "Stop that." Her voice trembled.
"Why?"
She gasped as his fingers slid into her betraying wetness. "No. Please, don't. I don't want to . . . I can't." The dark waters were threatening to crest and break over her again. How could she want him again so quickly? She had never wanted any man a second time.
He heard the lie in her voice. Moving up over her he continued his explorations. He kissed her lips gently. "I love you, Aeryn Sun. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
She was still shaking her head 'no' when he rose up and entered her. She convulsed under him then wrapped herself around him with fierce passion. "Oh god, John. Yes, yes, yes!" She was drowning again and knew it. He began stroking in and out in the rhythm she'd already come to know so well. She matched his movements, thrusting her hips up at him in perfect synchronization. It was even better than before! She screamed as she hit her peak at the same time he did.
They had barely begun the downward slide when she grabbed him again, babbling against his mouth, "More, John! Don't stop! Don't ever stop!"
He squeezed her so tight her ribs creaked under the pressure. "Never, my love. I'll never stop loving you."
The forbidden words crashed into her brain, blasting through all her barriers. It was wrong. She knew it was wrong. But right now, right here, she didn't care. She only cared that he was moving inside her again, taking her back up on that mountain.
It was better than the night before. He moved smoothly from one position to another, taking her with him. His mouth was on her lips, her face, her neck, her shoulders, her whole body. His hands caressed her non-stop, lighting fires in her jangled nerves, making her scream for more. Over and over again he took her to that magnificent peak. He went with her, urged on by her own passion, her hands and lips that tried to match his moves moment by moment.
It lasted . . . a lifetime. Forever.
Throughout it all he never stopped whispering her name, telling her that he loved her, that he wanted to live and grow old with her.
She couldn't take it. She couldn't stop it.
Her body reacted every time he said it. He meant it, every word of it. Just the thought was enough to send her into another climax, arching her back off the bed to him, crying out his name. It took all her will power not to say it back to him. She bit her lip to bloody froth to hold back the words.
In the end, it was her own thoughts that betrayed her.
I love you, John Crichton.
That one thought, in one unguarded instant, sent her blasting to heights she had never dreamed possible. It was too much, too intense. She felt the darkness sweeping across her and was powerless to stop it. She collapsed in a final spasm.
When she awoke she was engulfed in terror. How could she have let it happen? How could she have let that betraying thought sweep through her? And her own reaction to it, how could she ever reconcile herself to that? What if she'd said it out loud?
Madness!
Panic swept her to her feet in a single motion. She had to get out of here! Never mind that it was her room, that everything she owned in the universe was here. She had to get out!
She threw on her clothes in a near hysterical frenzy, not daring to look at him. If she looked at him, he'd wake up. She knew it was ridiculous, she knew it was just fear telling her that. But she couldn't shake the notion that if she looked his direction, even for a instant, he'd wake up. If that happened she was lost. She'd never leave the room.
She ran out of the room, nearly crashing headlong into Zhaan. She blindly shoved her aside and pelted down the corridor, ignoring Zhaan's calls. She came to an intersection, turned, ran to an another intersection and turned again. She ran until her sides were splitting, her breath rasping in her throat. She didn't know where she was. She didn't care. She plunged through the first open door she saw, locking it behind her. She tottered to a bench on the far side of the room, lay down and was instantly asleep.
* * * * *
Her whole body was stiff from sleeping on the hard bench when she woke up. Aeryn sat up slowly, stretching and twisting to work out the kinks. A treacherous voice in the back of her mind wanted to remind her how good it felt waking up next to John, but she squashed it firmly.
That was over. It had been a terrible mistake, the worst she'd ever made. It would never happen again, she vowed. Love was a lie, a ruse, a sneak thief that came in the night and stole her courage. Look what it did to me, she thought grimly. Running through the ship in a blind panic until I got lost.
Never again, she told herself fiercely, never again.
"Pilot?"
"Yes, Aeryn?"
"I seem to have gotten turned around. Where am I exactly?"
If Pilot was surprised his voice gave no indication of it. "You're near the flight deck on level twelve. If you turn to your right when you leave the room you're in you'll find the aft access ramp. It will take you to the flight deck."
She nodded. "Thank you, Pilot. I'll be down shortly." She brushed herself off then strode over to open the door. Her hand froze as she touched it.
He was out there.
For a moment she nearly panicked again.
Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. I didn't even know where I was, how could John . . . Crichton . . . have found me? She stretched out her hand to open the door but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was out there, waiting for her. It took three tries before she finally got up enough nerve to unlock the door and slide it open.
He was there.
He'd showered. She could smell the clean, fresh scent rolling off him. He'd taken time to dress properly but he'd brought a blanket with him. He was laying on the floor, stretched across the doorway with his jacket rolled up under his head for a pillow. She'd have to step over him to get out.
She froze in horror, her heart beating like a kettle drum. How could he have found me? How could he have possibly found me? She stood paralyzed, scarcely daring to breath for fear of waking him.
Step over him, Aeryn, she told herself, step over him and go. Hurry. But he'll wake up, part of her cried. I'll step over him and he'll wake up. It was irrational, she knew, impossible to know something like that. It was also impossible for him to have found her, but he'd done it. Her heart shook inside her at the thought of having to confront him. She tried to force herself to lift her foot, take the first step, but she couldn't do it.
She backed away, cursing herself for a coward. A trembling hand shut the door as softly as she could.
"Aeryn?"
Her knees almost gave out at that soft voice.
"Aeryn? I know you're in there," he insisted softly. "Open the door and let me in."
"No," she quavered. "Go away."
"I can't do that, Aeryn. I love you."
She felt something on her cheek. She wiped at it and found her hand wet with tears. The realization hit her like an iron bulkhead and she had to choke back a sob. Look at what you and your love have done to me, she cried silently. You've taken everything away from me. Her shoulders shook violently.
"Don't cry, Aeryn. We can figure something out."
Her eyes widened in horror. How did he know that? "No I'm not!" she cried.
"Yes you are," he replied through the door. "I don't know how I know that but I do. Aeryn, I don't even know how I found you. Something has happened to me, something that’s never happened before. I think you know what I'm talking about."
The problem was, she did know what he was talking about. She'd known he was outside the door, known he'd wake up. "What have you done to me?" she wailed despairingly.
"The same thing you've done to me," he told her.
"I haven't done anything to you," she screamed angrily.
"Yes you have," he said reasonably. "You made me fall in love with you, the same way you've fallen in love with me."
The tears were falling freely now. She sagged against the door, feeling his presence on the other side. "I can't do this, John. I can't! Go away. Please, if you really love me, go away." There, she'd said it; finally admitted the possibility of his being in love with her. The words irrevocably shattered another one of her defenses. There was only one barrier left now; the one barrier that could never be breached.
"Alright, Aeryn," he called through the door. "I'll go away for now because I do love you. I guess it's harder on a Peacekeeper than it is for a normal person. You need some time to work it out. But I won't go far, Aeryn. I love you."
She felt him moving away from the door, down the corridor. He dropped the blanket at the intersection. Gods, she thought wearily, imagine what we could do with this during a battle. Her mind wandered back to several incidents that would have been infinitely easier if they'd had this shared ability. She caught herself abruptly. She wasn’t actually seeing a positive side to this insanity was she? That would be the final insult.
She pushed herself upright, feeling as though she'd aged a hundred cycles. She wiped her cheeks and opened the door. The corridor beyond was empty. At the intersection she found the blanket just like she knew she would. She shook her head, feeling numb, empty. Too much had happened too quickly. She made her way slowly back to her quarters. She met Zhaan and D'Argo along the way but neither of them said anything to her.
Once in her room she stripped off her clothes. She stood under the shower, soaking in the warmth, washing away the scent of their lovemak---, their sex; washing away his smell. The water swirled down the drain, taking him with it. If only that were really true, she thought. How could she have let him get to her so easily, how could she have admitted to herself that she - NO! How could she have thought that she loved him? Thinking it was nearly as bad as saying it. The final wall was still in place but the cracks were showing. Those dark waters went deeper than she'd ever imagined possible. If she said the words she'd be lost forever. She'd drown.
She turned off the shower, toweling herself dry. She found herself wishing it was his hands running the towel over her body. She chopped off the thought abruptly as she felt him leaving the command deck for her room.
No, John!
He stopped, paused, then slowly turned around. OK.
There weren't any words in it. It wasn't telepathy. They weren't reading each other's minds. But somehow they knew, felt what the other was doing, feeling - wanting. She could feel him wanting her. It was coming off him in waves. The bitch of it was, if she was honest with herself, she wanted him too. She'd never wanted any man more than once but now her body ached for him.
Your body or your heart?, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. My body, she replied firmly, wishing it was the truth. It was only sex, nothing more! Just sex, she told herself.
Are you sure?
"Shut up," she whispered fiercely to the empty room. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" She pulled her clothes on quickly, using the activity to silence the treacherous voice. She strode out of her room heading for the mess hall. She hadn't eaten since the day before, she was starving.
Sure you've eaten, the little voice snickered. Him.
She ignored it, fighting not to run her tongue around the inside of her mouth where she could still taste his hot fluids. She needed solid food.
The rest of the day was miserable.
And the day after that, and the day after that.
She could feel him moving around the ship, taking care never to be in the same room or corridor as her. He was keeping his promise about that at least. It didn't help though. The new awareness they shared kept her on the ragged edge of a breakdown. He was constantly there, even when he wasn't. The others sensed the tension in the air and thoughtfully kept their distance. When they talked it was always about such mundane things as Moya's new baby or how she was healing after it blasted it's way out of her womb. It was very kind of them, but it didn't do any good.
Only Chiana seemed oblivious to what was going on. Or maybe she wasn't; on four separate occasions she tried to seduce John. Aeryn could feel his tension when it happened, knew it was Chiana confronting him. Each time he rejected her more forcefully than before. The last time he physically threw her out of his room. And each time, Aeryn felt an unreasonable zephyr of delight run through her. He chose me, her mind whispered to her, he chose me.
It was inevitable that sooner or later something would happen to draw them together.
Moya's baby was flexing his muscles, moving around, exploring. Being a Leviathan he was born with the same ability as Moya to starburst. Pilot informed them that he was getting anxious to try it. But there was a problem and everyone was needed on the command deck to discuss it.
Aeryn slowly made her way there, dreading the moment when she would see John. He was waiting for her, tracking her every step. She paused just out of sight and fastened her jacket all the way up as if to protect herself. She felt him smile at the futility of it. She squared her shoulders and strode in like a condemned man on the way to the gallows.
She saw him instantly. Their eyes locked with a near audible 'click'. She repressed a gasp at the heat that flared between them. Her nipples hardened, begging for his touch. She felt a seeping moistness between her legs. Oh gods, this was going to be even worse than she thought.
Pilot was saying something. With an effort she forced herself to pay attention. "Baby Leviathans have all the same abilities as adults, but without the experience to go with it. He won't know how to judge the distance."
"So he'll be able to starburst but we don't know how far he'll go?" Zhaan asked.
"Precisely," Pilot answered. "And because he's still a baby, his first reaction will be to call for his mother."
"Which the Peacekeeper base will be able to pickup," D'Argo rumbled.
"Can't Moya track his progress?" Zhaan inquired.
"No," Pilot returned. "Not until he calls for her.
"Can he control which direction he starbursts in?" Aeryn asked as a thought occurred to her.
Pilot's holographic image showed raised eyebrows. "I don't know, Officer Sun. I will inquire." A moment later he nodded, "Moya says 'yes'. It is only the distance that he will have difficulty controlling."
"Then have him starburst directly away from the base," Aeryn said.
John snapped his fingers. "Of course. Keep the planet between him and the base and they'll never be able to pickup his broadcast."
"Especially if he keeps it down to a narrow beam transmission," Aeryn finished for him. "Can he do that?" Damn, he picked up on it fast!
"Moya is explaining it to him now," Pilot said. "Yes. Moya says he can do it."
John winked at Aeryn. 'Good thinking', he mouthed silently.
She smiled back, feeling a flush of accomplishment.
"Then let's get on with it," he said eagerly. "Aeryn, you know the Peacekeeper frequencies and codes better than anyone. You better monitor them to make sure they don't hear anything. D'Argo, give her a hand. Zhaan and I will help Moya with her baby."
"And what about me?" Chiana asked insolently.
He gave her a hard look. "Stay out of the way," he said flatly.
He was doing it again, Aeryn thought with amusement. Taking charge as if he had every right to do it. And all of us are letting him do it. She moved over to the communications console. D'Argo joined her, his hands moving over the controls with hers'. "We're ready, John."
"Thanks, Aeryn." His voice washed over her in a warm, soothing wave. She wanted to close her eyes and simply bask in it. She turned away, feeling his gaze lingering on her.
"Stark, if the baby panics, can you send him any images the way you did with Gilina? Maybe calm him down?" he asked his former cellmate.
The man in the half-mask shrugged. "It depends on how far away he is."
John nodded. "Do the best you can." He turned to Pilot's image. "OK, tell Moya to have him give it a try."
"Very well, John."
A long moment passed. Then the baby lit up the sky with his starburst. An instant later they saw the light from the other end of his jump, barely one light second away. They all stared at it silently.
Even in the midst of her own emotional turmoil Aeryn fought to keep from laughing at their expressions.
John turned to Pilot. In a deadly, calm voice he asked, "Is that the farthest he can starburst?"
"Moya says that it is, John. At least for the present."
"Why didn't you tell us then?"
Pilot looked wounded. "John, this is the first time I've been present for the birth of a Leviathan. I had no idea what his limits would be."
"And Moya didn't think to tell you, did she?" he grated.
"Of course not, John."
Chiana giggled at him. "Looks like all your wonderful preparations weren't much good."
Aeryn felt an unreasonable surge of resentment. "It wasn't his fault," she snapped defensively. "In the absence of reliable data it's better to be safe than sorry."
"Oooh, I like it," Chiana sighed mockingly. "Standing up for your lover. Turning into quite the 'little woman' are you?"
Aeryn didn't remember moving, didn't remember grabbing her. She was here, then she was there.
"Keep your filthy, little mouth shut!" she snarled, shaking the girl like a terrier with a rat. Behind her she felt John moving toward them like a force of nature. "What we do is none of your business! You hear me? None of your business!" John was almost there, murder in every line of his body. She pushed Chiana away. "Get out of here," she ordered savagely. "Now!"
Chiana's eyes flickered from her to John's advancing form. Terror filled her face and she ran.
Aeryn spun around to grab John's shoulders. A shock ran through her at the touch. She ignored it. "John! No! Let her go. She's not worth it." She knew without question that if she didn't stop him, Chiana was dead. She had never seen him like this but there was no doubt he meant business. Chiana's life hung in the balance.
Her feet slid across the deck plating as he continued to surge forward, pushing her before him. She couldn't stop him! Over his shoulder she saw D'Argo start forward. Zhaan stopped him with a shake of her head. Why? Why wouldn't they help? She was slipping, losing her grip on him. He was going to break free!
Then she understood. A great clarity settled over her. There was a way to stop him, the only thing that would. It was almost a relief to be forced into it. No more lies, no more self-delusions, no more fighting against the only thing she'd ever wanted for herself. The dark waters were rising to claim her, and this time she didn’t fight them.
"John, I love you."
He froze.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the murderous rage faded from his face. His eyes searched for hers. A trembling hand reached out to stroke her face. She leaned into it. "Peacekeepers don't fall in love, Aeryn," he said sadly.
She shook her head gently. "I'm not a Peacekeeper any more," she answered, remembering her same words to Captain Crais on the Gammack Base a few days before. "I haven't been since you volunteered to die in the Flax." She smiled at his surprise. "I'm a Sebacean woman who can make her own decisions, live her own life." She took his face in both hands. "I love you, John Crichton. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you." She heard the steel ringing in her voice, the conviction. He was right - again. Love did make her stronger.
He swept her off her feet with his own strength. "Well, then, I think it's time for you to prove it. After all," he grinned crookedly at her, "it's been three whole days."
Her breath caught in her throat. She parroted one of his sayings as he carried her to her room, "In the middle of the day? What will the neighbors think?"
He assayed some strange accent she'd never heard, "Den, to Hell vit dem."
She laughed softly as he lowered her to the bed. He turned away to close and lock the door. When he turned around she was already nude. She stretched slowly, seductively, beckoning him with one finger. "Crichton?" she purred.
He grinned at her. "Yes, Ma'am?"
"Get your ass over here!"
His clothes disappeared in a flash. She pulled him down to her, into her, all in one motion. They both gasped at the sensation. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he started the slow motion that was universal since time began. She threw her head back, luxuriating in the feel of him inside her. "What is it we're doing?' she asked in a husky whisper.
His warm breath in her ear sent tingles down her spine. "Making love."
"Yes!" she gasped as the words sent her to a mini-climax. "Yes, John. Make love to me. Tell me you love me, that you'll never leave me!" Her own words caused another mini-climax, stronger than before, making her stutter with rising passion. The dark waters had closed over her head, far, far above. She could never escape them now, never leave their warm embrace.
He was getting harder, thrusting with greater force, faster and faster. "I love you, Aeryn. I'll love you forever. You're my heart, my soul, my reason for living," he panted. "I'll never leave you. Never!"
She was climaxing continuously now, each one stronger than the last, higher, more powerful. "Oh . . . god, John. I love you. I . . . fought . . . against it . . . so long. I was . . . afraid. Afraid I wouldn't . . . be . . . me anymore."
"But you are . . . you," he gasped. He was ramming into her, shaking the whole bed with the force of his thrusts. "The woman I love!"
Her hips were rising to meet his with equal force, her stomach muscles shuddering and quaking with sensation. "Yes," she hissed. "I am! And I love you, I love you, I love you! OH . . . GOD! John . . . NOW!!'
He roared, his bellow rattling the shelves as her words catapulted them to the final peak. She screamed remembering the last time when she merely thought the words, what it had done to her. This time she'd said them, and it blasted them into a whole new dimension of raw passion. It was a thousand times too much, more than mortal flesh could bear. At the peak their minds touched in a pure, incandescent blaze of power.
She writhed beneath him screaming in overwhelming fear, love, everything.
This was forbidden!
Only the gods could endure this! She would die!
. . . but . . .
She lived. They both did.
. . . barely . . .
When she could move again, she rolled her head weakly to the side where he had collapsed on top of her. "What . . . was that?"
"I don't know," he gasped between heaving breaths. The mental touch had receded, leaving a new, heightened awareness between them in its wake. "Unless . . ."
"Unless what?" He was holding something back, something that almost - scared him.
"Unless we're soul mates," he said finally. "Souls that wander from lifetime to lifetime together, always meeting, always joining."
She had never heard of such a thing. Sebaceans didn't have any legends or stories about it, nothing that came close to the concept. But she knew instantly what he meant. The very idea caused a shudder to run through her. Her muscles rippled around his length still embedded in her, making both of them gasp at the fluttering sensation. "Is that possible? When you died in the Flax you said you didn't remember anything."
He levered himself up on one elbow to look down at her. "I also said it may not have been my time to die," he reminded her with a crooked grin. "Maybe we can't die except together, at the same time. Maybe our love won't let us." He smiled with delight at her arching response, knowing now what power that word had over her.
She slapped his shoulder. "That's not fair!" she gasped, knowing that he knew.
His eyes danced with mischief. "No, but it sure is fun."
"John, be serious. I have to know!"
He sat up, sliding out of her. She moaned deep in her chest at the emptiness he left behind, missing him already, wanting him again. She forced herself to concentrate. "There must be some way of finding out."
"Aeryn, that legend is thousands of years old. No one has ever been able to prove it one way or the other."
"No one among your people," she retorted, running a finger over his lips to take the sting out of it. "Or my people either for that matter. But what about a Delvian Priestess?"
"Zhaan?!" He stared at her. "You want to ask Zhaan if we're soul mates? Now?"
"There's no time like the present," she said, quoting one of his sayings. She got up pulling the sheet with her. She wrapped it loosely around her and left.
"Aeryn, wait up!" he shouted after her as he struggled to pull on his pants. He ran awkwardly down the corridor, fastening them as he went. And she thought she wouldn't be herself anymore, he thought. What a crock! She's still as bullheaded as ever. He caught up with her just as she entered the command deck.
Everyone was there. Chiana, apparently fully recovered from her fear was talking to Stark. Aeryn ignored the stares she was getting and marched right over to Zhaan. "Have you ever heard of 'soul mates'?" she said without preamble.
Zhaan smiled gently. "Of course. We Delvians have known about them as far back as our history goes. Such individuals are highly regarded among us."
Aeryn's face was a study in triumph. "Then you can detect them?" she asked quickly.
Zhaan inclined her head. "Yes. And in answer to your next question, the answer is also yes. You and John are soul mates. I have known it since the first time I saw the two of you together."
D'Argo was looking puzzled. "What are soul mates?" he growled.
"Aeryn and I are soul mates," John replied as he slid his arm around her waist. "Souls that travel from lifetime to lifetime together. Zhaan, you're really sure about this? You're not pulling my leg are you?"
Everyone rolled their eyes at yet another one of his strange phrases. "No, John, I am not 'pulling your leg'. I am quite serious," Zhaan said with a smile.
"Good!" Aeryn pulled herself up, throwing her shoulders back. "Everyone hear that? John and I are soul mates. We are together." She fixed a beady eye on Chiana. "Got it?"
Chiana nodded quickly. "Sure, no problem," she said with a nervous smile. "I guess that means hands off."
"You bet it does," Aeryn told her in a menacing tone. She looked around. "Where is Rygel? He should hear this too."
D'Argo shrugged. "I haven't seen him for several days. Perhaps he is hiding in his room."
John looked at Zhaan but she shook her head. "I haven't seen him in several day either since you put him in the airlock."
The airlock?
John and Aeryn looked at each other in dawning horror. "Uh, who let him out?"
Heads were shaking around the command deck. "Oh, Hell," John muttered. He left the room at a dead run with Aeryn fast on his heels.
D'Argo raised his eyebrows at the sight. Aeryn's loose sheet, barely adequate to the task of covering her when she was walking or standing still, failed completely when she was running, revealing far more than it concealed. He grinned, wondering what John would say if he knew his 'soul mate' was flashing her shipmates. He jogged after them. By the time he reached the airlock, Rygel was already struggling into his floating chair.
"I said, get away from me!" the little Dominar was shouting. "I'll have you all hanged for this, flogged in the public square! No food, no water! How dare you do this to me! I am Rygel the Sixteenth! Dominar of the---"
The rest of his tirade was drowned out in a wave of laughter from the others.
End of First part