Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the geniuses behind Farscape. I own nothing.

Author's Note: AU, post season three. Letme know what you think, and please review.

The pain swirled at the edges of her mind, but she shied away from it, knowing only that it represented something she didn't want to remember. Didn't want to know. It was safe here, and the pain was someplace that it wasn't safe. Someplace she didn't want to be.

Shaking her head, she slowly crawled up the slope that overlooked the compound that was her target. She looked to one side, as if expecting someone to be there, then frowned. She was alone. No operative worked with another. There weren't enough of them. So why did she expect someone to be there?

With a shiver, she turned her head back to the compound, the remote detonator in one hand. It hadn't taken long to set the charges, and no one had even noticed her. They all thought she belonged there, and a slight smile touched the operative's face. She would have to commend the new scientist on their disguising module. It worked like a charm.

Her hand tightened convulsively as the phrase danced across her mind, the pain lancing through her like that of a broken bone. Below her, the charges exploded, destroying the compound's chance to complete the project they were working on. As she pushed the pain away, and the smoke cleared, she smiled.

Sliding back down the slope, Aeryn Sun headed for her prowler, and her rendezvous with her commanding officer.

"You're supposed to be dead." Crichton was tensed, standing on the balls of his feet. He hadn't enjoyed finding out one of his greatest rivals wasn't as dead as he thought.

"As you can see, Crichton, I am not." Crais didn't even turn around, his gaze fixed on the planet visible in the main view port, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"You knew you would survive." It wasn't a question, and Crichton noticed the sudden stillness it brought to Crais's shoulders.

"There was a chance that Talyn and I would survive, yes."

"So why did you let everyone think you were dead?" Crichton knew it was dangerous to keep pushing, but he couldn't leave it be. Maybe if he was able to push Crais far enough, he'd answer the first question that had come out of his mouth when he encountered the ex-Peacekeeper again. It had nearly gotten his module destroyed.

"It was safer for Moya and her crew to believe Talyn and I were dead."

"How was it safer? Moya was devastated because she thought her son was dead. Everyone was."

There was a quiet chuckle from Crais. "And no one worried about his captain." He turned, an amused smile on his face that made Crichton shiver. "Or did you think that someone did worry about me? Perhaps came to look for me, and that is why you think I know where Officer Sun is."

Crichton lunged at the man, but froze when Talyn dropped the cannon in his center console. "Damn you, Crais, where else would she have gone? And why else wouldn't she come back?"

"You will have to ask Officer Sun that question. If you are able to locate her." Crais turned back to the view port, dismissing Crichton's presence.

"I know all I need to know to find her. You know where she is, you son of a bitch. So tell me, where is she?"

"I cannot tell you what I do not know, Crichton."

Crichton growled, and clenched his hands into fists. He couldn't hurt the Sebacian, or Talyn would kill him, and he desperately needed to take his anger out on something. He had been looking for Aeryn ever since Moya was sucked into a wormhole, but all he'd found was a dying Leviathan and her dying Pilot. "Damn you," he muttered, spinning on one heel to leave command.

Crais relaxed once the human had left, though he doubted anyone as untrained as Crichton would notice. He couldn't tell Crichton where Aeryn was, but he could have told him where she would be.

Aeryn tensed when she saw the module in the hanger as she brought the prowler in. She would have turned and bolted if Talyn hadn't already had her caught in the docking web. The pain that always swirled at the edges of her mind lashed at her, tendrils tightening around her, and making her eyes sting with unwanted tears.

Her jaw tightened, and she forced the tears back, forced the pain back into the dark corner of her mind where she kept all the memories. She didn't want them. Didn't want to think about what she had lost. She had everything she needed here.

"Welcome back." The tiny tech who kept the handful of smaller ships in working condition gave Aeryn a slight smile as she climbed out of her prowler. "Captain wants to see you in command. Don't go by the crew quarters on your way."

Aeryn nodded her thanks, and headed for command, ignoring the other crew around her. She had her missions, and she had Talyn to return to. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was important.

"Reporting as ordered, sir." Her voice was cold and hard, and she stood at perfect attention. The perfect soldier once more, focused and cold with no need for emotions.

"Aeryn." Bialar turned around, his gaze searching her face for a moment. What he was looking for, she didn't know, and she didn't care. He wasn't likely to find it. There was a slight shift in his posture, a change from the concerned friend to the commanding officer, and she felt the pain that threatened to come out recede.

"Sir?"

"Report."

"The mission was successful, sir. The base was destroyed." Aeryn kept the memory at bay, knowing it would bring back the pain. The pain she didn't want. The pain she didn't need.

"Well done." He paused, clasping his hands behind his back. "You are aware that Commander Crichton is aboard Talyn?"

"His ship was in the hanger when I returned, sir."

There was a slight twitch at the corner of Bialar's mouth, but nothing more to indicate his mood. "He will be traveling with us until we can locate Moya, and return him to her crew."

A warning, that the one person she didn't want to see was on the ship, and would be for an indefinite period of time. And that he had likely already found his way to her quarters, and would be waiting for her there. "Do you have another mission for me, sir?"

"You are aware of the protocols between missions, Aeryn. You have a weeken before you are returned to the mission roster."

"Of course, sir." Aeryn waited until he dismissed her, and turned away. She had to find some other way to avoid Crichton until her next mission.

Crichton's jaw clenched as he examined the sparsely decorated room he'd been directed to when he'd asked one of the technicians where Aeryn's quarters were. There was almost nothing to suggest that anyone lived here, beyond the narrow bed, and the handful of cleansing supplies in the refresher.

Not even any sign of the child he'd been told she carried before she vanished.

"Crais, you son of a bitch. You told me you didn't know where she was," he snarled as he stalked out of the room, heading for command. He didn't care if Talyn decided to fire at him, he was going to make that arrogant bastard tell him where Aeryn was.

He turned the corner in time to see someone come out of command, turning to head away from him. Familiar black hair, bound back in a neat braid, and a slender form hidden by the suit of a prowler pilot. Crichton mentally made a note to hurt Crais later, and ran to catch up with Aeryn.

"Aeryn!"

She slowed when he called her name, turning to look at him with an expression he hadn't seen since they had met. The perfect soldier, who didn't feel anything. The cold-hearted woman who didn't need anyone.

"Crichton," she said evenly, a distance in her voice that sounded impossible to bridge.

He stopped in front of her, feeling suddenly awkward. "Um." Crichton gave her a sheepish grin, trying to make her react, show some kind of emotion. He would even take annoyance at this point. "It's good to see you again."

She said nothing.

"How've you been?"

"Do you have anything to say to me, Crichton, that has any real value?" she asked, her voice holding only a hint of fatigue.

Crichton winced, and shrugged, trying to hide how much her cold demeanor was hurting him. "Where are you headed?"

"Where I am going is no concern of yours." Aeryn held his gaze, and Crichton thought he saw a flicker of emotion. A flicker of pain. But it vanished faster than it appeared, and he couldn't be sure of what he saw. "Leave me alone, Crichton."

She turned away again, leaving him standing alone as she walked down the corridor, and vanished around a corner.

Crais told Talyn not to fire at Crichton as the human barged into command. He'd watched as Aeryn had coldly dismissed Crichton, and knew the other man would come after him once he roused from his shock.

"You son of a bitch!" Crichton's fist connected with Crais's jaw, and he rocked back slightly to lessen the impact of the blow. "You knew where she was."

When he aimed another punch at Crais's face, the Sebacian side-stepped, letting Crichton stumble forward.

"I was not aware of her location when I informed you of that fact. You did not ask if I was aware of where she resided."

Crichton glared at Crais, settling into a fighting stance. "I was asking you that, and you knew it. You could have answered me, shared some information for once, instead of letting me find out the hard way?"

Crais raised an eyebrow. "Telling you she is part of Talyn's crew would have changed nothing, Crichton. And if you had chosen to leave when I told you I did not know where she was, you never would have found out."

"You could have told me, and told me she was off somewhere else. That she wouldn't want to be bothered when she got back." Crichton glared at Crais, but the ex-Peacekeeper said nothing.

He knew it would be difficult for the human to understand that it wasn't the mission. That the human would find Aeryn's choices as difficult to understand as Crais sometimes did. And he suspected that Crichton would find her actions difficult, if not impossible, to forgive. So he didn't tell him. Again.

Talyn opened the door for her, and Aeryn knew Bialar was awake. He knew that the pain wouldn't leave her alone if there were reminders of what she had lost. The pain she wanted nothing to do with, that she wanted to forget.

The locking mechanism clicked into place behind her, ensuring that no one would come barging in. If he even found his way here, and found out.

The lights were dimmed, but she knew hew way around without needing to see. Aeryn shed her boots, leaving them at the door as she made her way across the room, her clothing following them to the floor. The sheets of the bed were soft under her knees as she knelt at the edge, reaching out a hand to touch the man sitting there, watching her.

The lights went out completely without an audible command, and she felt his hands coming up to caress her, evoking memories that weren't as painful as the rest. Aeryn closed her eyes, sliding forward on her knees.

Here, she could forget the last cycle and a half had happened. She could pretend he was still alive, like she couldn't with his twin. His copy. That looked like him, that felt like him, that smelled like him. But wasn't him.

She knew Crichton would wonder why, but she told herself she didn't care. That no matter how much she explained, he would never understand. Never want to understand why she could recreate with Bialar. Why she could feel alive with someone who didn't look, or sound, or feel like him. Why she could pretend her John Crichton was still there, in her arms, when she was with Bialar.

Aeryn pushed Bialar backwards, straddling him, her head tilted back as she lowered herself onto him. She never met his eyes when they recreated, never touched his face, never kissed him. The illusion she built in her mind would shatter if she saw those brown eyes, filled with a pain she put there.

He knew she pretended, and still he played her game. Perhaps he knew why she did this, perhaps he even understood. But she knew it hurt him, no matter how well he played the game, and hid the pain. She would be in the refresher in the morning, trying to erase the guilt, shoving it into the same dark hole as the pain, and wishing she could go back to being he perfect soldier she pretended to be.

The soldier she'd never be again, because he taught her to feel.

Crichton wandered the corridor, trying to find Aeryn. She wasn't in her quarters, an he wanted to talk to her Help her, if she would let him past the barriers she was trying to build around her emotions. Again.

A muffled cry caught his attention, and he dropped his hand to the pulse pistol strapped to his thigh. He noticed the tiny lights from DRDs near a door, and wondered what they were guarding. But only for a moment. There was only one place on Talyn that would be guarded by the little machines.

A chill crept down his spine as a familiar moan came from the room behind the door, and his heart clenched. He shook his head, not willing to believe the scenario that was taking shape in his mind. The masculine groan that followed Aeryn's cry made him lurch to the wall, bracing his hands on his knees, and dropping his head as he fought nausea.

"No," he whispered. "Aeryn, babe, no, please." He couldn't identify the man from the sounds, but he didn't need to. Not with the DRDs at the door. He shook his head again, hoping, praying, he was wrong.

"John!"

Crichton's head snapped up, his eyes wide. The door was still firmly shut, and nothing there had moved, but he'd heard her cry clear as if she'd been out in the corridor with him. And it only served to hurt more. What could drive her to sleep with another man when his name was the one she cried out in passion?

His vision blurred, and he shoved himself to his feet, stumbling away. He needed to find a way back to the hanger, back to his module. Where perhaps he could drive away his memory of what he just heard. Pretend he hadn't found out his girl was screwing another man. Forget that she wasn't really his girl, and never was.

Forget that the man she wanted was dead, and it was only his name on her lips because it was his name too.

The End