Title: Aeryn's Diary -- When Hearts Collide

Author: Jigs

Archiving: please email me first

Rating: R (sexual content)

Category: Adult

Warnings: Contains mild spoilers for the "The Premiere" and "The Flax." And major spoilers for "Human Reaction."

Summary: Aeryn reflects on her night with John on the faux Earth in "Human Reaction," as the author thinks it might have happened.

Disclaimer: Regretably I have no claim to Farscape, I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit of fun.

My whole world has rotated 180 degrees on its axis. For the first time in my life, I have no orders to follow; my decisions are my own. I know what I want, at least I think I know; I just never thought I would have the opportunity to choose, to pursue my own desires. But all that changed when my world collided with John Crichton's.

So here I sit, trying to sort out incredible changes and unfamiliar emotions. I have never before been inclined to write down my thoughts and feelings; I don't know why I'm doing it now, except that I don't know what else to do. The last few monens have been so confusing, so different than I imagined my life. Maybe if I try to write down what I'm feeling, create something concrete from this chaos, I can figure out what to do.

I know how to fight an enemy, how to plan a battle strategy, how to defend myself. In battle everything is black and white -- we versus them. You know who the enemy is. But how do I defend myself against the unknown?

Everything happened so fast on the commerce planet. In that moment when we faced Crais, all I knew was I didn't want to die. So when the opportunity for escape came, I went with them, D'Argo and Crichton. I never considered that I could be more than a Peacekeeper soldier until he said it. My whole life was altered on those few words from an alien -- a human -- John -- who I had known only a few arns.

And now, after all this time, I have these strange feelings, feelings I have never felt before. It is all such a conundrum! I am -- was -- a Peacekeeper, and now I use that knowledge to protect us from Peacekeeper apprehension. Under the threat of the living death I was commanded to keep away from alien contamination. Yet I find myself drawn physically and emotionally to an alien who is not even from our galaxy, a male who is a contradiction of all the values that have been ingrained in me since birth. He is not a soldier; he is a scientist, a thinker. He solves problems with his brain, not his brawn. He is not a warrior, but he can hold his own in battle.

John is so different than any other male I have encountered. Emotions that flow freely from him, understanding, caring, even love, are never nurtured in the Sebacean military. Peacekeeper soldiers do not fall in love, such attachments are strictly forbidden in the infantry. Physical needs are met, but not encouraged.

No longer am I a Peacekeeper, nor do I want to be alone. I proved that when we were caught in the flax. I put his life above my own. Why? Because I didn't want to die alone, or because I couldn't face the unknown without him? I don't know.

I remember when I was with Crichton on that faux earth, when his world turned upside down, his disbelief in the actions of his own kind seemed to strengthen his loyalty to me. He fought so hard to be strong, to protect me, after we thought Rygel dead and D'Argo beyond our reach.

At the safe house I watched him stare out the window, apologizing to me for all the trouble he thought he had ever caused me. He was so vulnerable, and yet I could see the inner strength he possesses. Sitting beside me on the bed, he asked if I was scared when he asked me to leave Moya. I was scared -- scared of being without him -- but I didn't tell him that. I told him I would not be captured again. He nodded hesitantly, then put his lips against my shoulder; the soft stubble of his beard titillated my skin, igniting feelings deep in my soul that I had never before allowed to surface. In that moment, we both realized it might be our last few arns together.

As our lips moved toward each other, I truly did not know where we were headed, but I wanted to go there just the same. His kiss was gentle and soft. I wanted to heal him, to offer my strength to replenish his. I searched his face when we broke the kiss, his clear, blue eyes, saddened by the events of the day, but still beautiful. I saw longing there, but also a need for comfort.

It is a heady feeling, to be needed -- not for my physical strength, or my battle prowess -- but just because I'm me. I wanted to comfort him, although I was not certain how to do so. So I held him, encircling him in my arms; he laid his head against my shoulder and closed his eyes, hugging me so tightly I thought my ribs would break. It felt wonderful. I stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. He moaned my name softly and nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck. I liked being needed by him.

His body began to relax, and he fell asleep in my arms, the events of the day finally taking their toll. I knew then we would not join our bodies that night, but I knew our relationship was changing. When I was sure he was sleeping soundly, I laid him back on the bed, then checked the room, making sure all was secure. Removing his shoes and socks, I eased his pants down as carefully as I could; I didn't want to wake him. But I have to confess it excited me to be so close to him.

I stripped down to my underwear, his underwear actually, and crawled in bed beside him. It's funny, thinking about it now. He made me so angry the day that I took his underwear in retaliation for teasing me. I thought he deserved it. I mean it's not like he brought clothes for a holiday. I think he only had two pairs and so I took one of them.

I don't know why I tried them on, it was silly, really, but the fabric was so different from any I had ever seen, so soft and snug against my skin. I just never gave them back. It must have pleased him that I had them, because he never asked for them.

He looked so peaceful lying there on the bed. All the day's trauma and frustration seemed to lessen in sleep. I grazed his cheek with the back of my hand and he snuggled closer, molding his beautiful body to mine. We stayed that way all night, despite everything that was happening around us, we both slept until the morning light flooded the room.

John woke me with a tender kiss. As I came to consciousness, I heard him repeating my name. It sounded so musical on his lips and I felt the same stirrings I had earlier, but I only smiled up at him.

"I'm glad you are here with me," he whispered.

"Me too," I agreed.

He stroked my hair and studied my face, searching perhaps for a sign of forgiveness or encouragement; I wasn't sure. Neither of us knew what the day would bring, and I wanted to feel him inside me, at least just once. I don't think I have ever wanted anyone or anything as much as I wanted him at that moment. He must have seen it, my consent, because he leaned over and kissed me again.

It was a kiss full of longing and promise and I succumbed willingly to his exploring tongue. It seemed to surprise him, and he pulled away slightly. I smiled at him, a wanton smile, trying to convey my permission for him to continue. He had no trouble understanding my message. He rolled on top of me and kissed my brow -- we Sebaceans really like brow kisses, and for a fleeting moment I silently thanked Gilina for showing him that.

I whispered his name and felt his arousal grow against my thigh. He trailed tender kisses down my neck and shoulder, swelling my own desire. When I close my eyes I can remember every detail of our union….

I rubbed my hands along his back, down to the bottom of his shirt. Wanting to feel his skin against my fingers, I slipped my hands under his T-shirt. He groaned deep in this throat, continuing to kiss his way down my neck until he was very near my breasts. His lips, tongue and teeth worked in concert to create a symphony of sensation; I was lost in his sensual exploration.

When I had his T-shirt up to his shoulders, he raised up and let me pull it off over his head. Balanced with his hands on either side of my body, he looked down at me, his eyes dark with passion. I licked my lips and ran my palms across his well-defined torso, pulling tenderly at the hair on his chest. He closed his eyes and groaned as I rubbed my thumbs over his tiny nipples.

Leaning forward, he ran his tongue along my brow line and then stroked it with his thumb. "My turn," he whispered, bending down to nuzzle the edge of my breasts with his lips.

He watched as I opened the front clasp on my bra and bared my breasts to his hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful, Aeryn," he gasped, raking his hot gaze over my hardening nipples, and then taking one in his moist mouth.

I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the sensation -- it felt so good. As he pulled and teased my breast with those talented lips, his fingers worked its twin, massaging and squeezing me until I was melting under his torrid touch. I held him against me, stroking his short hair and playing with the shells of his ears. Our longing moans mingled and surrounded us until I could not discern one from the other.

He alternated his attentions, torturing one nipple with his fingers, then soothing it with his tongue. He was masterful in his manipulations and I arched my back to give him greater access. Moving my hands to his shoulders, I tried to massage the tension from his taut muscles. My exploring fingers moved along his sides, lower and lower until I reached his briefs. Sliding my hands under the waistband, I groped his firm cheeks. He looked up at me with a big grin on his handsome face. Reaching between my legs to check my readiness, he stroked my humid heat. My hips bucked up toward him and he rubbed his hard sex against my covered femininity.

I wanted to see him -- feel all of him against me. I raised up and bit his shoulder, grabbing his last impeding garment and pulling it down as far as I could, then he finished the job. John has a magnificent body; I couldn't help but touch him.

"Oh gawd, Aeryn!" he bellowed as I stroked his fevered length.

"You like?" I teased.

"Yes…yes," he stuttered, reaching for, then removing his underwear from my quivering body, sliding it down my legs, trailing his fingertips against my tingling flesh.

He covered my naked body with his own, skin against skin our hearts beating wildly. We kissed passionately, tongues seeking, searching. I moaned from the intensity -- it was too much; it was not enough. We clung to each other, losing ourselves in the heat of our desire, forcing the chaos of the last few arns from our reality. I cannot remember ever feeling this good.

We reluctantly separated, for air mostly, and I stroked his cheek with my hand. He turned his head and kissed my palm. His hands were slow and deliberate as he touched me everywhere as if to memorize every inch of my body, lingering over his favorite places. He caressed me with such reverence. I trembled beneath him as wave upon wave of liquid heat crashed over me.

"I need you," he said, desire shading his voice in a hoarse whisper, "show me how to please you."

Hezmana! He was serious -- I was speechless. No Peacekeeper consort I had ever known would make such a request -- would ever care enough to ask. But John need no instruction; he seemed to know instinctively what I liked, just how to touch me.

Smiling up at him, I spread my legs wider beneath him, inviting him inside. I slid my hand between us and guided him to me as we stared at each other, our eyes wide with excitement and anticipation. He gasped as I touched his shaft again, but his eyes never left mine. He was so gentle, easing his way inside me, allowing my yielding body to accommodate his length. We were both overcome with the sensation.

It was ecstasy, fulfillment, the ultimate completion of the attraction I think we both felt from the beginning. The ebb and flow of our joining was hypnotic. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I urged him deeper and deeper inside me. Our bodies moved as one, rocking together, faster and faster as we raced to climatic release. John lowered his head to suckle me as his graceful rhythm continued to plumb my depths.

I was totally out of control and it felt so frelling wonderful! Never before had I experienced this kind of passionate mating, always before sex had been only to satisfy a physical need. This was so much more.

Using my inner muscles I contracted my body around him as the final throes of passion sent me to the heavens. The friction drove us both higher and higher until our screams of ecstasy echoed through the room. With one final thrust, John collapsed on top of me as his fervent essence pumped into me. His hard body quaked above me and I could feel him grinning into my shoulder.

Gasping for breath, but still with that adorable grin on his face, he looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something.

What could I say? He was perfect, so much more than I ever believed I would have in a lover. But I didn't know how to tell him that, or even if I should, so I took his head in my hands and told him that I had wanted this to happen for a very long time.

"You have?" he asked, not quite able to swallow the surprise in his voice.

"Yes, John," I smiled up at him.

He reached for the edge of the comforter and pulled it over us to keep the chill off our glistening bodies. Entangled in each other’s arms, we drifted into a light sleep, wanting to hold off the harsh reality of the coming day….

It was the only time we have been together, and sensations are burned into my memory as if they happened only moments ago. I have spent many arns on Moya's terrace, looking out at the starscape and remembering his touch. I want to join with him again, to feel all those wonderful sensations he created within me. Some times I think I will just pull him into my chamber and ravage him, but I fear he would only think it a physical need and I want him to understand that it is so much more. It is all so new to me.

Crichton has touched me far deeper than I think even he realizes. He has awakened my mind and my heart to new possibilities. I want to be more than I am, more than I was trained to be. But it is hard for me to change. It is not unlike the first time I attempted a solo flight in battle. I knew the controls, knew what to do, but didn't have the confidence or the experience to guarantee success. It was unknown, as is my venturing into a relationship with John.

I do not know his heart -- but I want to. I want to know all of him. He intrigues me, frustrates me, entertains me. But can he love me -- an alien? He referred to Humans and Sebaceans as kissing cousins once. I think I would like to explore that further. Yes, I definitely would. I wonder what he is doing right now?

Fin