A sneeze echoed through the corridors of Moya. It had come from the quarters of John Crichton and Aeryn Sun.
"ACHOO!" the second was more violent than the first, although it was only the second of the new day.
John's eyes flicked open, as the bed shook from the ferocity of the sneeze. "Damn it Aeryn..." he said, climbing out of bed.
Aeryn scowled at John, "It really isn't my fault I caught a frelling...what do you call it? From your damn planet..."
John sighed as he put of a fresh t-shirt, "I was going to say, damn it Aeryn I think your cold is getting worse..." He handed her some more tissues. "It was lucky we stocked up at the commerce planet. We would have been screwed if you ran out."
Aeryn furrowed her eyebrows, "But the point is was well over a monen ago when we were at your planet."
"Yeah...well. It must have been hiding in your system all this time."
Aeryn shot him a look that said "You don't say" and instead sneezed violently. "Is there a cure for this?"
John shook his head, "Nope. You just have to let it run its course..." he said as he finished getting dressed.
"And how long is that going to be," she sniffed.
"A weeken or two."
"Two weekens?!" she exclaimed.
John shrugged, "Maybe three, but don't worry. I'll look after you." He gave her a kind hug. "The most important this is you get some bed rest," he said, gently tucking her in.
She glared up at John, "Bed rest? I am not good at bed rest."
"You want to get rid of this right?" he asked, placing a hand on hers.
Aeryn snatched her hand away. "Do you think I'm a drannit?"
"Then do as I say and get some rest. I will be back later with something to help soothe your throat and a balm to help you breath better. It's just a pity you can't get chicken soup out here"
"Che...kee...ne Soo...pe?" Aeryn sniffed. Trying to pronounce the words anytime was hard enough, let alone with a frelling 'cold' as John called it.
John nodded. "Yeah..." he wasn't going to argue.
"ACHOO!" this was more powerful than the previous sneezes. Aeryn blew her nose and glared at John, "Frelling deficient species, anyone out here could come up with a cure in weekens..." she said bitterly.
"Yeah, well us 'deficient species' lack the technology and the knowledge of the virus to come up with a cure, so quit moaning woman and get some rest." Crichton sighed to himself. This was going to be one of those days...