Enigma
by Angelesque
Disclaimer: the universe of Farscape and the characters that inhabit
it belong to DK and company. No infrigement is meant.
Spoilers: none.
Author's Note: based in Season 2. There is more if you want it muwhahaha
If he stared at her any more he'd bore a hole straight through her.
Who was she and who the frell did she remind him of?
He stared harder, but the memory teasted the edges of his brain and would come no closer.
She moved, all fluid, slender grace. She was Sebacean. *Must* be Sebacean. The dark hair that fell to her waist indicated... Peacekeeper?
No, not wearing that. The copper coloured dress that brought out her skin tone. She paused in the street, surrounded by the market vendors. She turned suddenly and looked directly at him.
He froze. She stared, obvious puzzlement in her face. She frowned slightly and cocked her head. She was young, younger than he, younger than Aeryn. Chiana's age? Hard to tell. The ebony hair was wavy and there was the slightest hint of mahogany in its depths. He was close enough to her to see her eyes were a dark, dark brown.
The memory surfaced briefly and was gone. He had almost remembered. But not quite.
Who was she and who the frell did she remind him of?
The same two questions rolled round and round his mind. He watched her as she shoke her head slightly and turned away. She walked off. He stood half a step, intending to go after her, to figure out the enigma she embodied. Then he remembered he had to get back. His time was out.
Later on he struggled with the recollection of her, still trying to place her
vaguely familiar features.
Who was she and who the frell did she remind him of?
He half-listened to the conversation around him, staring into his cup of rasklak.
"I don't know it could be I suppose."
"Pilot, what is the source of the transmission?"
"I am not certain. The gravity pull from the moon is distorting the message.
We will have to move further away."
"To so Pilot. They could be in trouble."
He looked up at that. "Who?" He questioned.
"Pilot's receiving a transmission," Aeryn said, sitting heavily. "It
could be Talyn. He and Crais could be in danger. Crichton! Watch what you're
doing!"
The rasklak spread slowly across the table from the cup that had clattered onto
the table as John Crichton stared at Aeryn in shock.
Who was she and who the frell did she remind him of?
Remind him of? NOW he remembered.