| Disclaimers: Not my characters, except for Sara Michaels, really. Archiving: Just ask. Spoilers: A Human Reaction, mostly. Summary: John goes to Earth with Aeryn, but nothing is as they expect. Author's Note: This is a long story that I've been working on for a while. Eventually I plan to continue with John and Aeryn, but also with Sara Michaels :). "Ready." John studied his instruments. "Pilot, you reading us?" "Your signal is perfectly clear, Commander." "Right." He took a deep breath. "Okay." Aeryn rolled her eyes. "Crichton, let's go already." Right. John Crichton took another deep breath. He'd been lucky to find another planet with this level of solar flares. Aeryn had argued with him at first about performing another round of experiments but eventually had capitulated and come along with him. He needed a copilot for these tests--there was simply too much monitoring and testing and flying to be done. They'd spent the morning fending off D'Argo's impatient outbursts and flying slingshot maneuvers around the planet. This was their fifth run with no success. So why suddenly did he have rattlers in his stomach? He made an infinitesimal adjustment to their trajectory and pushed forward on the controls. The Farscape shuddered as they accelerated toward the planet below them. "Approaching the upper bonosphere," Aeryn said. "Atmosphere in 3...2..." John hauled back on the controls with all his strength, fighting the planet's gravity well. They rocketed along the upper edges of the atmosphere, the Farscape's outer hull growing hotter and hotter from the friction. Rattlers, tight and angry, in his belly. Suddenly John yanked the controls down and right, not sure why. The Farscape broke out of the atmosphere and shot lightning fast back into space. "Crichton!" Aeryn shouted, furiously adjusting her controls, "Why the frell did you--" She froze, stunned, as shimmery blue light flooded the compartment. Wormhole. "Jesus, Aeryn! Aeryn!" He shouted. "Do you see it?!" "I see it." She said. He distantly heard her checking her instruments. "It seems stable. Pilot?" "Confirming. Yes, Officer Sun, the wormhole is stable for the moment. It is degrading rapidly though." "Can Moya see what's on the other side?" John fought against the airlessness in his lungs. His hands clutched at the controls. "Yes, Commander. The readings..." Pilot hesitated suddenly. "The last time Moya saw these readings was when you went to the false Earth." John closed his eyes. No, this was real. Had to be real. Somewhere inside of himself he was sure this time. He also felt this was his last chance. Those solar flares were dying. He craned his neck again to look at Aeryn, who was studying him. I *can't*. He thought. I promised her I'd never put her through that. She'd be alone. The last time.... John closed his eyes and swallowed hard. I'm going to grow old and die out here. But I can't ask her to come and I can't take her through without asking and that wormhole is decaying *fast*. Everything he'd hoped for and had been denied, over and over, was being denied him again. Hot resentment flared. Resentment against his life, his current circumstance. Resentment against Aeryn for being at the wrong place at the wrong time once again. He bit his lip and swallowed that last resentment, burying it deep inside. Without her he wouldn't even be here to try. At least I know I can make the wormhole--this is the second time, so I'm *sure* it can be done, John tried to console himself. What I've created I can create. Even if it takes more cycles out of my life--if it takes me the *rest* of my life-- "If we're going to go, we'd better say our goodbyes now." Aeryn's voice was dry and so quiet he could barely hear her over the pounding of his heart. John forgot to breathe for a long moment. She hadn't just said that. She *couldn't* have just said that. "Aeryn?" "Pilot," she ignored John's question, "please let the others know we're going through." "Aeryn, think about this," he insisted. "We might not be able to get back." "I know." "Aeryn--" Shut up, John, he thought urgently, shut *up* already. This is your chance. Take it! "We hear you, Aeryn," Zhaan's voice came soft and sad over the communicator. "Good luck." D'Argo, "Take care of yourselves." John closed his eyes. "Sparky you can have my share of the food. And my spare shoes." The little Hynerian had coveted his shoes since the day he had stepped on board. "Pip, stay safe and keep out of trouble, okay?" There was so much more to say to all of them, but no time to say it. "Pilot..." Aeryn trailed off. "You have to go soon, Officer Sun. The wormhole is still deteriorating. Moya and I will miss you both." The wormhole. John glanced back at Aeryn for the okay. She nodded. Pilot's calm voice spoke calm directions. Precious seconds. Correct trajectory. The gateway home. Entry. Earth Her voice was filled with exasperation. "Well, go there, already." "I'm going, I'm going," he chanted. He'd have to plan it all very carefully. First thing to be sure of was that this was his real home. John decided to land someplace he didn't know--north central USA. He flew in low over the pole, activating stealth mode as he approached the first wave of satellites. The last thing they needed was to be detected and shot down. Or worse, pursued and imprisoned. Aeryn was his second consideration. How best to keep her safe and free? He'd need help. DK and Dad were necessary if the two of them would adjust to living on Earth. The ice caps flashed beneath him, stark white dotted with patches of grey sea. The white became dotted with pale grey-green of vegetation, which in short order became trees. John began braking their forward speed. He thanked his lucky stars for the semi-darkness of early evening. Trees, mile upon mile of stark trees. He became aware of Aeryn's harsh breathing but she remained otherwise silent. Trees began to be dotted with signs of habitation, and he slowed his forward speed even more. The trick was to find someplace hidden for the Farscape--once found, the hunt would be on--but close enough to civilization that he could find phones and food and supplies. He saw the lights of a small town beneath him on his left, in the midst of the trees, and circled around for a better look. Towns would have cars and phones, things they needed. He banked left, circling the town, and began the search for a place to land. He believed he was somewhere near Michigan. A mountain, lots of trees, lakes, towns in the distance...this was perfect. He circled a cluster of three lakes deep in a forest before finally circling to land. He selected a likely clearing about an hour's walk from the highway--he wished he knew *which* highway, but it seemed to head south--and lowered the Farscape gently through the trees. Aeryn opened the cockpit as he powered down the engines and she scrambled out, pausing halfway down to reach for their belongings. She dumped them on the ground and walked to the edge of the clearing, surveying the forest. "Is this Florida?" She spoke over her shoulder to him. "I thought--" He shook his head, walking over to her. "No, I'm pretty sure this is Michigan. Another part of the country entirely." Then exultation hit him sharp as a knife and he let out another whoop. Home. Well, close enough.... He grabbed her around the waist and slung her around, grinning and laughing. "I'm *home*, really home, I know because I haven't been here." He began to dance around the clearing, still grinning. "Yeah, baby, I am *home*." She shook her head, impatient with his foolishness, and his grin faded a little. "We should get moving," he said, shucking out of his bright orange flightsuit. He folded his suit up and stuffed it into his knapsack. "They shouldn't have seen us, but let's not take chances." "I agree." She slipped out of her own black suit and wadded it up into a ball. She threw the suit into the back of the Farscape, then began packing guns and knives into her tote. Aeryn started to slip a pistol into her leg holster but he stopped her. "Can't do that here, Aeryn. It'll attract attention and that's the one thing we don't want." "I need a weapon." "What about that little pocket pistol? That conceals pretty well." She nodded reluctantly and tucked holster and gun efficiently into another bag. "You ready?" John turned slowly to look back at the Farscape. His ship. "No,." he drawled softly, "we should conceal it, somehow. Maybe even-maybe even push it into the lake. But what if we need to get back?" "There's no way back." His head jerked around toward her, but she was bending over the packs again, her long hair concealing her face. When she straightened, her face was passive, almost relaxed. She began to pull her hair back out of her face and bind it with a thong. "Ready?" Aeryn asked again, calmly. John's hand rubbed the Farscape's stubby wing, ran over the modified fin. "Yeah, I guess." Traveling She slept, but John lay awake for a long, long time, listening to the rustle of the wind through the leaves, the buzzing of insects and myriad other Earth noises he'd never thought he'd hear again. Somewhere in the middle of the night he finally dozed off. He was still smiling. "Crichton." A booted foot nudged him, hard, in the ribs. "Crichton, wake up!" He opened his eyes and gazed up at her. "Mmmmm," he groaned tiredly, wanting nothing more than to sleep for a few more arns. Hours, he corrected himself. The foot nudged his ribs again, harder. "Crichton, come on. It's almost sunrise." "Almost." He closed his eyes but propped himself up against the rough bark of the tree. Frell, his neck hurt. He rubbed it, trying to ease the sore muscles. "We can barely see yet." "Which means they can't see us." She hesitated, hard-nosed practicality slipping a little. "I hear something." His eyes popped open, fully awake. He stood up beside her, holding his breath, listening with every ounce of his hearing. Soft rushing sound. Almost like wind, but...rougher. So familiar he almost couldn't place it. "Cars." He said suddenly. "That's cars, on asphalt. We're near the road." Aeryn brushed her knotted hair back against one smudged cheek and tucked it behind her ear. Her forehead wrinkled. "We *want* to go to a road?" "Yeah." He shrugged. "Trust me, Aeryn, I've got a plan." He grinned at her. "Come on, darlin', I'll tell you while we walk." He bent down and scooped up his backpack, then reached out and grabbed her hand. "Time's wasting." They walked hand in hand toward the distant road. He babbled at her as they walked, pointing out to her all the things he'd only told her about. Trees and moss, a startled deer, planes flying high over head. They reached the road and began walking along the side of it. He told her about cars, and the different makes and models. Hunting, with his dad and DK, riding up the mountains in the back of an old red pickup truck. He didn't know what had brought the hunting trip into his head until he became consciously aware of the distant thrum-thrum-thrum of the truck's engine as it rumbled along the road toward them. He turned, pulling her behind him, and stuck out his thumb. The old truck passed them, slowing, and finally halted. John nodded to Aeryn, who accompanied him around to the driver's side. "Hey," John smiled at the man through the open window and stuck out his hand. "You wouldn't mind helping out a couple of lost hikers, would ya?" The man smiled back and shook his hand. "You headed into town?" John laughed under his breath. "We hope! My sister and I got completely turned around in there." "Hop in, son," the old man said. "White Cloud's just about five minutes from here by car." John spared a moment's regret for what he and Aeryn were about to do. Aeryn followed him around to the passenger side. He held the door open for her and met her eyes briefly. She climbed up and scooted inside. The old man slid closer to the door, making room for her. She turned toward him and slammed the palm of her hand up into his chin. His head rocked back against the car window with a solid thump. The man's foot came off the brake, and the truck surged forward, accelerating. The old pickup rocketed past him, out of reach, carrying Aeryn and the unconscious old man with it. It sped across the road and down the embankment. He heard Aeryn's yell with perfect clarity, heard the crunch of tires on gravel and the metal crash as the truck hit a tree. John bolted for the truck, heart pounding. Aeryn, God, Aeryn... He yanked open the passenger door and scrambled inside. She was leaning back against the seat, breathing harshly. "You okay?" She nodded, coming back to herself. He reached across her and turned the truck off, then stopped to examine the old man. He was all right, still out cold, but otherwise unharmed. John breathed a sigh of relief. Relief turned fear for her into anger. "Why the hell didn't you turn the key?" He gripped her shoulder tightly. "Or hit the brakes? What the hezmana were you thinking?" "Frell you!" She spat, shoving him hard away from her and sliding out of the pickup. She turned, reached behind her and pulled the old man out feet first. John grabbed his arms and they laid him gently on the side of the road. John checked his pulse, his breathing. Still fine. He would not die. They rolled the old man over and John grabbed his wallet. He left credit cards, pictures of grandchildren, coupons alone and went straight for the money. The old man was actually carrying several hundred dollars. John closed his eyes, thanking his good luck. This could be just enough to get them where they needed to go. He tucked his acquisitions into his pocket and rolled the old man back over onto his back. He'd wake up soon, and it certainly wasn't far into town. Was the truck even usable, though? He walked to the front and inspected the damage. These old trucks were pretty sturdy, and it hadn't been traveling that fast. He closed his eyes in relief and patted the front bumper. Aeryn remained standing over the old man's body, watching him with cold eyes. "Hurry up, Crichton." "Yeah, coming," he muttered under his breath, still irrationally furious with her. "Get in the truck." John circled around to the drivers side and slid in. He turned the key, hearing the thrum-thrum with distinct satisfaction. She climbed in beside him and shut the door. John studied the shift for a second, re-familiarizing himself with technology he'd never thought to see again. But he'd been driving since he was fifteen, and once his hand was on the gear it came back to him like he'd never left. Clutch, shift, gas, brake. John put the truck into reverse and eased it slowly away from the tree, wincing at the sound of metal folding on the bumper. Then he spun the wheel and accelerated up the embankment onto the road. He glanced over at Aeryn. She was intently studying the movement of his hands on the shift and steering wheel. Suddenly it hit him why she hadn't reacted when the truck had crashed. She didn't know how. He swallowed hard. Stupid, stupid, stupid, John! God, he could kill himself-- "Aeryn--" he reached over and rested one hand on her knee, "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just forgot you don't know how to drive." "Frell you." She said again, pulling away from him. He sighed. Always a party. John reached down and turned on the radio, flipping stations til he found a decent rock n' roll station. He was tempted to blast it, just because he could, but he glanced over at Aeryn and didn't. She curled up against the door, staring out the window at the passing trees. They passed through the town, heading down route 37. John wanted to put some distance between them and the old man's unconscious body. John found himself enjoying the drive immensely despite his fears. All his life he'd dreamed of going into space, flying on one of the Apollo missions, and then later on the Shuttle, but right now driving this rickety old pickup truck with the peeling red paint and rusty muffler felt like the best thing he'd done in months. An hour later, they hit Grand Rapids. He was hungry and suspected that Aeryn was too, so he circled into a McDonald's and ordered big sloppy cheeseburgers with fries and a coke for both of them, then picked up gas and directions to the nearest bus station. He wolfed down his cheeseburger happily. "Not the best," he said, "not the best food *at all*, but damn I've missed it." Aeryn looked askance at her paper-wrapped sandwich. "What is it?" "Cheeseburger. Beef--well sort of--lettuce onions pickles ketchup on a sesame seed--aw, hell, I don't remember the song." She blinked. "Food has a song? Is this some sort of ritual?" "Uh, not exactly. It's kind of a long story." He smiled fondly at her. "You'll learn all about it soon." John pulled into a shopping mall parking lot about a mile away from the bus station. He tossed the keys on the front seat—someone would find the truck eventually, and hopefully return it to its owner—and reached behind him for their packs. They reached the bus station and walked into the cool tan interior. It was a small station, with a tiny waiting area, a few terminals for the buses, and two cashiers. He sat Aeryn down in one of the waiting areas and strolled casually over to one cashier. "How much for two one-way tickets to, uh," he surveyed the board, "Washington, DC?" The tired cashier named a steep price. John winced. High, but he knew that DC was a city where they could blend in easily. Not too hot, not too large, and relatively close to Florida. It was about 11 hours on a smelly bus though. Not exactly his ideal trip. The bus was leaving in two hours. Incredible luck, to have timed it so well. Making First Contact The phone rang. DK's voice. "Hello." "Press 1 to accept a collect call from…" His own voice. "John Crichton." DK's indrawn breath, a muttered curse, and then the phone went dead. John muttered his own curse and re-dialed. "Please state your name." "DK, bro, c'mon, it's me, it's John," he spoke rapidly into the phone. Ringing. "Hello?" The familiar voice was gruff with anger. His own voice repeating back the sentence. The call connecting. "Look," DK said, his voice tight with fury, "I don't know who the hell this is, but it's a pretty sick joke." "DK. It's me. John." Silence. "Look, I can't explain it all. What do you want, proof? Remember, um, remember Suzanne, that bartender you were so in love with? The one at Slick Willie's. Remember her? You were so tongue-tied you couldn't even speak to her, so I arranged a little game of pool and let you win. To impress her. You sure impressed her, man, till her boyfriend came in and caught you. The biker dude. C'mon, buddy, its me. I'm back." "John." Slow, hesitant, starting to believe. "Jesus, John, what the hell—" "I'm sorry, DK, but I can't explain it now. Can you meet me in DC? Without telling anybody? Take a few days off work—you never take vacation, so I know you got the time." "John." "Yeah, buddy, I know." John swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. "Frell, believe me, I know. Are you coming?" A pause. "Hell, yeah," DK drawled, "but you're gonna kill me, not telling what's going on." John glanced over at Aeryn. "You can handle it. It's just really important you don't tell anyone. Especially Dad. Capiche?" "Got it. I don't know why yet, but I got it. Man, are you *sure* you're not a beer-induced hallucination?" John laughed. "Guess you'll find out in two days. But hey, I've gotta go. We'll meet on the Mall, okay? Five pm, at the entrance to the National Air and Space Museum, tomorrow. Sound good?" "Sounds good." DK said promptly. "Oh, for the record, you never *let* me win at pool. I beat you fair and square." "Yeah, in your dreams. Bye, DK." "Bye." He stood there a second after the phone went dead, struggling for control of his emotions. He'd dreamed of seeing DK again--they'd been best friends since grade school, gone to high school together, then college. Then IASA, and Farscape. John scrubbed his hand across his eyes, fighting back tears. Just one day. One day. Road Trip "What's wrong?" "Nothing, Aeryn, everything's perfect." She snorted, disbelieving, and he laughed. If she didn't believe that, then she'd never swallow the fact that she was the best part of it. Aeryn on Earth. Even in her current dirty, smelly, smudged and dishevelled state, she was still beautiful to him. He laughed again and hugged her close. "I've know I've said it before, Crichton, but you *are* the most bizarre creature." "Yeah, yeah, babe, I know." He hugged her again. "You tired?" "A little," she admitted. He straightened up and planted a quick kiss on her forehead, ignoring her startled look. "We'll have lots of time to sleep on the trip." She frowned at him. "You're starting to smell, Crichton. I hope you've planned a bath somewhere along the way." He laughed. "Backatcha with that smell thing, darlin'." John bent to scoop up his pack. "It's gonna be a long, stinky ride to DC. Hope they won't throw us off the bus." "They wouldn't, would they?" "Nah. We'll just sit far away from the other passengers." She nodded with intense satisfaction. "Yes." He hesitated. "Aeryn..." "Hmm?" She zipped her pack and slung it over her shoulder. "These people won't hurt us. It's going to be fine." She looked at him for a long moment, considering, and then nodded. He suspected she was humoring him. The memory of the false Earth was still too painful. Even after all these months. They spent the long interminable hours on the bus sleeping and talking softly. He quizzed her on what he'd taught her so far about Earth culture, disregarding her occasional snappish remarks. She did remarkably well. Neither of them mentioned Moya. The loss was too deep, too new, to talk about yet. When a word or a thought sparked one of *those* memories, they fell silent, looking away from each other. She slept. He watched her, and worried. The incident with the truck had shaken him deeply. How many other things would he assume she knew? It was fun to teach her about culture and government, but the fact was that she'd never vote anyway. She *would* need to read. And shopping--she wouldn't know pesticide from cereal. Shopping, reading, those were bigger things too. Aeryn had never even seen a toothbrush, a microwave, a television, or a lamp. She'd have to learn how to plug things in and turn them on. She couldn't tell a one from a hundred dollar bill. These things most illegal immigrants essentially knew, or figured out shortly on arrival in the States. The bus rolled on through the afternoon, into Cleveland, OH and then up through the mountains to Pittsburgh. Aeryn woke up and they talked some more. Eventually John dozed off, lulled asleep at last by the rhythm of the engine. Day rolled into night. They pulled into the Union Station bus depot--which was actually a few blocks from Union Station itself-- sometime around midnight and climbed stiffly out of the bus. He stopped a guard and got directions for a nearby hotel that would confuse anyone but a native. So he used some of their dwindling cash to get a cab. Patterns on Glass I She reached out and scratched some angular symbols underneath. "That's yours." The cab driver looked suspiciously back at them in the rear view mirror. "Don't mess up my windows." John apologized quickly and scrubbed the words off with his sleeve. Are you happy? She smiled tiredly at him. They entered the dingy room and threw their bags on the bed. John opened the bathroom door and flipped on the light, inspecting the facilities. He made a face. "Not your best accomodations, babe," he called back to her, "but they'll pass. C'mere." He beckoned her over. "You'll probably feel better after a shower." He ran her through the drill on hot and cold water taps, and showed her how to flip the knob from bath to shower. The shower started up as he flopped in the old armchair and flipped on the TV. He turned to CNN and caught himself up on the headlines. Hurricane in North Carolina. A shooting several months ago at some highschool. The upcoming presidential election. East Timor. After a moment he resignedly turned it off. It sounded too much like Crais' wet dream and he just wasn't in the mood for death and violence. This was *Earth*. He still wanted it to be perfect. He sighed and flipped the TV back on, but tuned it to Nick at Nite. Nice and fluffy. The shower cut off. He closed his eyes, listening to her movements as she rattled around in the bathroom. After a moment she opened the door and stepped out, clad in his calvins and one of his tshirts. He frowned at her. "Is there anytime you're *not* going to steal my clothes?" Her lips quirked up in a quick smile. "I feel clean." She announced with considerable satisfaction, then wrinkled her nose at him. "Your turn. You smell like dren, Crichton." He muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath and hauled himself out of the armchair. He grabbed a fluffy white towel off the top rack and stepped into the bathroom. He stripped and turned on the water, sticking his hand under to check the temperature. Cold. John turned up the amount of hot. Still only lukewarm. He frowned and adjusted the level of cold almost to nil. Still barely warm. He scrubbed really fast. Frell but that was cold! Then he dried himself quickly with the towel and splashed through the puddles of water he'd left to the sink. John wrapped the towel around his waist and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "Aeryn!" He raised his voice so she could hear him through the closed door. "Yo, Aeryn!" "Yes?" She was right outside. "Come on in, I want to show you how to brush your teeth." The door knob turned and she pushed her way into the tiny bathroom. Aeryn glanced down at the puddles of water on the floor and the tube of overturned shampoo. "Quite a mess." She commented matter of factly. "Is that customary?" He rolled his eyes at her in the mirror and bit back a retort. "Never mind." He showed her how to load the toothpaste onto the brush and then demonstrated quickly how to brush. She made faces at the taste, her eyes watering. She took a quick sip of the water he proffered her and spit it out vehemently. "*That* was horrible!" She stuck her finger inside her mouth and tried to wash out the taste. "That replaces the Dentic?" "Yup. You'll get used to it." He shrugged. "There's other flavors, too..." "Ugh. I'd hope so!" She took another gulp of water, swished it around her mouth and spit it out again. "How do you stand it?" Aeryn backed away from him. "Please tell me there's no more...tastes...like that." He shrugged and followed her out. John grabbed his last pair of Calvins from his pack and went back into the bathroom to change. When he came back out she was sitting on the bed, legs folded underneath her, watching "I Love Lucy". He settled on the bed beside her and lay back, closing his tired eyes. It had been a long day and a half. Tomorrow, DK. Aeryn shifted her weight on the bed, rousing him from his half-doze. "Crichton--" She poked him in the ribs. "Crichton, how do you turn that off?" She pointed at the TV. He grabbed the remote from the bedside table and flipped off the TV. John rested his eyes for another second before hauling himself out of the bed and turning off the lights. He heard Aeryn slide under the covers, rustling the crisp sheets. He crawled in beside her, turning away from her to sleep on his side. "'night, Aeryn," he muttered sleepily. "Good night." Her breathing settled quickly into the deep, slow rhythms of sleep. He followed soon after and did not dream. Sometime in the middle of the night she dreamed, though, and her involuntary movements roused him from his slumber. He rolled toward her. She'd fallen asleep on her belly, her arms stretched up under the pillow and her face turned away from him. John stretched out his hand and rested it on her back, rubbing it comfortingly. She lifted her head and looked dazedly at him. "Hmmmm?" She breathed. "Nothing. You were dreaming." "Mm." Her head dropped back onto the mattress. She scooted closer to him, snuggling into the warmth of his body. "Cold." "Yeah." John slipped his arm around her and continued rubbing her back, taking as much comfort from the contact as he hoped he was giving her. He aimed to kiss her forehead but got a mouthful of damp black hair. She laughed softly and scooted back away from him, taking his half of the blankets with her. John stuck out one hand and snatched her pillow out from under her head. She yelled happily and went for her pillow, kicking the blankets off the bed as they wrestled. "Give...it...back...!" She panted, tugging on it. "Crichton!" He let her take it back. She pulled away from him, tucking it under her chin. "Now I'm too hot." She complained. He rolled on his side, facing her, and propped his head on his hand. "Aeryn," he said seriously, "are you happy?" Her eyes darkened and her grin dropped away. "Ask me tomorrow." John touched her shoulder with gentle fingers. "I've got a plan." She sighed, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes. "Another one?" "Yeah," he replied softly, "my dad's got this cabin in Canada..." "Canada?" "Another country." He hesitated. "I thought we could fix it up, you know, make it real nice to live in. I could get a job too. I'll never be an astronaut again, but I don't mind. I've had enough of space for two lifetimes." He shrugged, a rueful grin flitting across his sleepy face. "Canada's not too hot, and when it does get over optimal temperature you can just stay inside." She rested her head on her folded arms. "Staying inside helps with heat delirium?" "Air conditioning. You know, temperature controlled rooms. I'll have to add a unit before summer gets here, but it feels like early fall now, so we have a whole year to get everything right." He kept talking to her softly, outlining his plans. John didn't want her to worry over any of it; he didn't want to see that reflective frown on her face or see fear darken her eyes ever again. They were home now. DC He motioned for her to catch up to him as they strolled the half mile to the Air and Space museum. Aeryn gawked like a school girl at the tall buildings, and despite his nervousness he found himself enjoying her response. It was nice for once not to be the awestruck one. "What's that?" She whispered, pointing to a tall red brick building with ornate windows. "The Castle. Why are you whispering?" "I don't want anyone to hear me speak Sebacean. They'll get suspicious." A smile flickered across his face. "This is DC. Everyone will assume you're a visitor from another country and not worry about it. See those people over there? They're Japanese, I think. And those two guys over there are speaking Russian. I *think* its Russian. No one's going to even notice you." Aeryn accepted that with a brief nod. He looked over at the Castle, wanting to tell her about it, but when he turned back to her she was gone. He spun around, searching frantically, and saw her dart over to the wall and peer over the edge. He hurried over to her. "What's this?" John read the sign. "Hirshorn sculpture garden." She frowned, peering down at one of the metal statues. "Crichton....do all human women have huge..." Her hands made a cupping motion. "Like that?" He grinned. "Gazongas." He replied sagely, "you mean gazongas. That's just Helga." "Helga?" "Yeah, DK and I named her the last time we were here. She's like a big Barbie Doll, in a German bar maid kind of way." "Oh." Her frown deepened slightly. "Helga?" John sighed impatiently. "Later. Come *on* all ready. You can stare at the statues later." Best Friends DK turned then and spotted him. "John?" He called out over the noise of the crowds. Aeryn tensed and reached for the pistol in her pack. John gripped her wrist. "Don't," he said softly, "please don't. It's okay." She relaxed slightly and he turned to his friend, still keeping his grip on Aeryn's hand. "DK." They stood there for a long moment, grinning foolishly at each other, before John found himself caught up in DK's hug. "Jesus, John--" DK choked, "I was still so sure it was a joke--" "Nope. One hundred percent real me." His face sobered and he pulled back a little. "You came alone, right? You didn't tell anyone?" "Not a soul. What happened to you? We thought you were dead! And you're--what the hell happened?" "I'll tell you all about it, I promise. Just not now." John scanned the crowd around them warily. "Let's not take any chances. Come on." He reached behind him and grabbed Aeryn's hand again, pulling her forward. "DK, this is Aeryn. Aeryn, my friend DK." "Nice to meet you," DK drawled slowly, his eyes changing from wary to puzzled. Aeryn ignored him and turned to John. "Are you going to search him?" She whispered. "No." DK shook his head in puzzlement but followed them to the metro stop. "What's going on? Why all the secrecy? You should have sixty television guys here, national parade, phone call from the president--the whole shebang. "Lost Astronaut returns: story at 11." You're a bona fide American hero, risking your life for the betterment of mankind." John grinned. "It's gonna blow your mind." "Man, this has *already* blown my mind. John touched his friend's shoulder. "Listen, you worked at Goddard. Know any good local restaurants where we can talk in private? And I *don't* mean those joints where you'd pick up chicks. Something nice for Aeryn." DK considered. "There's a little Mexican place near the Uptown Theatre. You like Mexican, Aeryn?" "Uh, she's never *had* Mexican, buddy." "Never?" DK's eyes widened. "Not even Taco Hell." "Nope. But that's something else we need to talk about later." "Crichton." Aeryn tugged impatiently on his sleeve. "I'm hungry." They took the metro to the restaurant and walked in through the garden gate. A young waitress seated them at one of the corner tables in the garden and brought them menus. John and DK opened theirs up and Aeryn, imitating their actions, followed suit. DK cleared his throat abruptly, reached out and turned her menu right side up. He met her eyes and then decisively folded his menu and placed it down on the table. "So you've never had Mexican and you can't read." He turned and stared at John. "And you--you go up into space, return a year later with a gorgeous chick and put me through all this James Bond crap. Fess up. What the *hell's* going on?" Aeryn toyed with her fork. "Go ahead." She encouraged him quietly. DK's obvious confusion deepened. "John, what langu--" "Sorry, DK...its just....remember how you said this felt like an X Files episode?" He jerked his chin toward Aeryn. "Well meet the little green man." DK actually laughed. "This isn't working." Aeryn snapped. "Whoa, whoa, slow down both of you. DK, I know this is a lot to take in. *Believe* me I know. But I haven't lost it. I swear." John rested his elbows on the table and leaned his head on his hands. "Where do you think I've been all these months, buddy? Sheboygan?" DK gaped as comprehension dawned. "You're completely serious. That you--that she's--" His head jerked around and he stared at Aeryn. "*Think* about it." John continued persuasively, meeting his friends eyes. "I'm betting that the Farscape just disappeared off your sensors. A burst of interference...then radio silence. Right? Well that was the wormhole I went through. We designed the Farscape to be the first step in interstellar travel and it worked...just not in the way we expected." "This is a lot to believe." "Yeah, I know." "But the alternate explanations running through my brain aren't any crazier than what you're telling me, so...keep talking, John. I'm with you so far." "Crichton," Aeryn nudged his ankle with her bare foot, "why doesn't he believe you? He's your friend." "Yeah, but it's a lot to grasp, babe. It's gonna take a little time." "You sure you trust him." "Yeah, I trust him. With my life." "Okay, okay..." DK raised his hand, interrupting their conversation. "Question One: *IF* she's what you say, why does she look so human? Is it a disguise? Is she really a little worm or slug or something?" "No, that's Rygel." John sighed. "This is a long story." "And crazy as hell, I'm sure," DK drawled, leaning back in the chair, "but I've got lots of time, so shoot." "From the beginning." He took a deep breath, organizing his thoughts. "Okay, here goes..." John started talking. He talked for three hours, pausing only when the waitress came near. DK's face was astonished, disbelieving, anxious and surprised by turns. He finally gave up watching John and stared directly at Aeryn, who fidgeted with her fork. Their food came early into the conversation and sat there, growing cold. "....and we went through the wormhole we created and here we are." John finished up all in a rush. Aeryn met DK's eyes and then glanced over at John. "He thinks we're crazy, John." John sighed. "What do you want to see, DK? What'll convince you?" He leaned forward, eyes intent. "I *need* you, DK, if I'm going to make this work at all. C'mon, go with me on this one." DK closed his eyes and sat there for a long moment, struggling with the idea. "So you're telling me...you're really telling me that she's an alien. And I'm talking to her. Over burritos and beer." John leaned back, relaxing. It would be all right. "Yeah. Pretty frelling incredible, huh?" "Frelling?" "Ahhh, never mind." "Do you know what this means?" "Whoa, bud, slow down." John reached out and laid his hand over Aeryn's, stilling her fidgeting. "Careful. She's not an ambassador to humankind. She's my friend." DK rubbed his face with one hand, mutely accepting that for the moment. "So what are you going to do next?" John settled back in his chair and let out a long breath. "I don't have the faintest idea." "You know the worst part of this?" John shook his head. "That she can understand me so I can ask all the questions I want but I'll never understand the answers." He turned directly to Aeryn. "Do you know....there's so much we can learn from you. From your people. It's just...I don't know whether to yell or walk away or dance or what. If he's not crazy. Hell, If I'm not!" He bit his lip. "But if you're crazy John its because you've been *somewhere* and Sheboygan doesn't cut it for an explanation. And if I'm crazy," he shrugged, "then I'm probably in some padded cell somewhere *anyway*, so what the heck, right?" He met her guarded eyes. "What do you need from me?" Aeryn nodded, mutely accepting his offer of help. "For starters, DK," John drawled slowly, grinning, "you could pay for the meal. I'm a little short on cash at the moment." DK grinned back, still not taking his eyes off Aeryn. "He always was a mooch." "What? Oh, please--" John protested. "Never paid for *anything* in his life that he didn't have to." He confided conspiratorially to Aeryn. "I can believe that." "What'd she say?" "She's agreeing," John translated sourly, frowning at the both of them. "You--" he pointed at Aeryn, "should not be conspiring against me with my best friend. And you--" he pointed at DK, "have known me far too long to tell stories like that." Aeryn and DK exchanged amused glances. John threw up his hands, smiling. "Yeah, all right, all right! Just pay for the meal, DK." "Did he always wander off and get into trouble too?" Aeryn asked DK. "I'd turn around and he'd have disappeared, and then suddenly six armed soldiers would be chasing us. Did that happen to you too?" John rolled his eyes. "I'm *not* asking that." "Yes you are." She insisted. "I finally met someone who knows exactly what its like living with you. Ask the question." "What's she saying?" "Nothing." He scowled. "Crichton!" "John, " DK leaned closer to his friend, "you're telling me she's from another planet and you're not going to translate? Uh uh. Not happening. Speak." Crichton reluctantly translated. "Trouble. Yeah, he's definitely trouble. I could tell you some stories that would make your hair stand on end." DK shot a sly glance at John. "We'll figure out this communication thing, Aeryn, and then we'll have ourselves some nice, *long* chats." Aeryn laughed. "I like him, I think." She said to John. "Great. Just great. I'm surrounded by traitors." He was pleased though. He'd been worried about their reaction to each other. He smiled back at them, his mind more at ease than it'd been in a long time. Ice Cream ala Crichton "What's up?" DK, who'd been a little ahead of them, turned to ask. "Ice cream." John grinned and pointed at the Uptown Scoop sign. "I want ice cream. So does Aeryn, but she doesn't know it yet." Aeryn peered at him curiously. "Ice cream?" She repeated, looking back and forth between the two friends. "What's that?" "Well, babe, they freeze milk--I think and--hell, come on," John grabbed her hand and yanked her inside the crowded little shop. He leaned over to whisper to DK, "She's never had chocolate either." "Wow, no chocolate? You sure?" "Oh yeah. I had some the last time I was on Earth, but she didn't get to try any." "Wait, last time you were on Earth? You've been here before now and didn't visit?!" Dk's mouth dropped open. "No," John replied, absentmindedly pulling Aeryn away from a table where she'd been examining someone else's ice cream sundae, "not exactly. Aeryn, you can't try someone else's food, no, you can't...we'll get you your own, I promise...Anyway, DK, there was this race of aliens who were looking for a home. They recreated Earth out of my memories to see if it was someplace they could go. I uh, I didn't know it was a hoax, not at first." He swallowed hard, looking away from his friend. "I thought leaving there was the hardest thing I've ever done, even though I knew it was fake. I mean...I thought it was everything I'd ever wanted and...it was a fake. A joke." "I'm sorry." "Yeah, me too. I keep expecting this not to be real, buddy. That it's all going to disappear, or go away, or just...end up like a really really bad dream." "It's real, John." DK said sombrely. "Very real. And...uh, Aeryn's about to..." "Aeryn!" John handed a little girl back her ice cream cone and pulled Aeryn back into line. "Sorry, sorry, she's...uh...from another country," he explained to the little girl's angry dad. "She wasn't going to eat it, I swear." He put on his best Mr. Innocent grin. "We can buy her another one if you like." His grin broadened. Aeryn started to wander off in another direction but he grabbed her arm and pulled her over. "You don't *do* that!" He hissed. "Do what?" "Take candy...ice cream...from babies. Or anybody. You buy your own." "Okay." She hesitated. "How do I do that?" "DK, do you mind showing her how to pay for something?" "Not at all. Aeryn, here's a five dollar bill. This will buy you one sundae, or one ice cream cone. See the writing up there? That sign tells you the options you have and how much they'll cost." Aeryn peered up at the sign, squinting her eyes as if she could understand it better that way. She fidgeted with the money, crumpling it nervously in her hands. She cleared her throat. "I don't know what it says." John translated for his friend. "Don't worry about it." DK patted her shoulder. "John and I'll pick something out for you your first time. I recommend their double-dip cone--get one chocolate scoop and one vanilla. Sound good?" Aeryn shrugged. The couple in front of them moved to the side to get their cone, and DK urged Aeryn forward. "I'll have a cup of phish food, please, and the lady here'll have a double scoop cone, vanilla and chocolate." Aeryn stared in fascination at the clear case full of ice cream tins, the cashier, and the cash register. "John, what do you want?" "Same as Aeryn, I guess." He smiled, "I can't make up my mind." DK opened his wallet back up and handed Aeryn another five dollar bill. "Ten dollars should cover us. When the lady's given us all three items, you hand her the money, okay?" She nodded. DK snatched a couple napkins and a spoon from the dispenser on the counter and took his cup and the first cone from the cashier. He handed one to John. "All right, Aeryn, you're up. Hand the lady the money." Aeryn passed it over dutifully, her eyes cataloguing every reaction. She jumped a little when the cash register drawer popped open with a loud ching. The cashier put several dollar bills and some bright metal coins of different colors and sizes in Aeryn's hand. Aeryn looked quizzically at DK. "That's your change." He handed Aeryn her cone and urged her away from the counter. "You see, the cost of the cones was less than ten dollars, so we got some money back." "Yes." Aeryn nodded decisively, "I understand now. But isn't this your money?" John pushed open the door and stepped out to the sidewalk, then turned and held it open for them. "She wants to give you back the change." "Nah, Aeryn, you keep it. A little later you can buy a coke or beer with it for practice. Have you tried beer?" 'Yes, I like it." DK laughed. "Look at the grin on her face. Don't need to translate that one." "What's that?" She flung out the arm holding the ice cream cone, pointing at a passing helicopter. The chocolate scoop on top wobbled precariously and then slid to the ground with a wet sploosh. "Oh." She looked unhappily at it. John laughed and switched ice creams with her. "You can have mine, Aeryn." "Oh, no, Crichton, this is your first taste in a long time. Take it back." "This is your first taste ever." "No." "What do you mean, no? Aeryn, take it, come on." "Crichton!" Her eyes flashed. "Take it back!" "Hold on, guys," DK interjected, "Share or go play in someone else's sandbox." John grinned from ear to ear. "Great idea. Aeryn, let me have mine. Here..." John held both cones in his hands, concentrating furiously. "I better have great timing on this one. Ready?" Aeryn shot a curious glance at DK, who shrugged. "Ready...." John flipped Aeryn's cone upside down on top of his, holding the top scoop balanced there with her cone. "All right...here's the tricky part..." Slowly, deliberately, John lifted the top cone away from the bottom cone. "Voila!" He grinned triumphantly. "Triple scoop ala Crichton!" DK chuckled,. "Show off." "Crichton--" Aeryn warned, "I think it's going to--" Splat. The top scoop landed with another wet sploosh on the pavement. "Aw, crap." "That was my last one!" She punched his arm, sending his vanilla scoop tumbling to the ground. "Aeryn!" "Serves you right." Aeryn snapped. They glared at each other over the remaining scoop of ice cream. John sighed. "Here you go," he tried to hand over the ice cream cone, but she batted his hand away. "No. You should have it. Besides," she wrinkled her nose, "it looks funny." DK looked mournfully at the three wet splots of ice cream melting slowly on the tan pavement. "Geez, I feel like I'm out with my five year old niece Paige." "It doesn't look funny, Aeryn," John sighed, "it's ice cream. It looks just like it's supposed to look. How about this: we share it. I get a lick, you get a lick." Aeryn considered the idea for a moment before nodding. "Okay, you first." He passed the cone over, watching expectantly. Aeryn examined it from all angles before taking a tentative bite of the ice cream. She jumped back, startled. 'Cold!" She exclaimed, sucking air in past her teeth. John and DK exchanged sly grins, and John took the cone back. "No, no, you lick it. Like this." He demonstrated, then handed the cone back to her. "Never bite directly into the ice cream, and don't eat too fast or you'll get a headache." Aeryn took a quick lick, her eyes wide. "That's good!" "You like it?" John smiled a pleased, little-boy smile. Aeryn smiled back. "Yes." "Are you happy?" She met his eyes over the top of the ice cream cone. "You are very odd, Crichton." "You've said that before," he accused, snatching the cone back from her. John took one vengeful taste, then deliberately took another. "Crichton!" "Hey, I've got an idea..." John snatched her hand and put it around the cone, holding it between them. "A contest. First one to the bottom wins." "What?" "We eat it at the same time. If I get to the top of the cone first, I get to eat the cone. If you get there first, then you get to eat the cone. Get it? Ready?" DK shook his head ruefully. "Now I *know* I'm out with Paige." Jack Crichton "Least I can do." The two men talked for a long while up in the room, exchanging stories and renewing the friendship. Aeryn sat quietly in the background, watching TV with a puzzled little frown on her face. After a while she left the bed and went for a shower. "DK," he said quietly as soon as the shower started, "I have a huge favor to ask you." "Shoot." "If anything happens to me, take care of Aeryn, will you? Keep her safe." DK nodded. "Of course." "You know what that might mean, don't you?" "Yeah, I know." DK hesitated. "So when were you going to ask about your Dad? He's the only person you haven't mentioned." John blinked. DK was just *too* observant for his own good. "How is he?" he asked quietly. "Fine. Doing better anyway. Your 'death' took a lot out of him. After your mom died, you were all he had left, and when he lost you--" "Mm." John rubbed his chin. "I can't take Aeryn into Florida and I didn't just want to call him out of the blue. Not if I couldn't make it here." "Why couldn't you take Aeryn to Florida?" "Too hot for Sebaceans. Didn't want to risk it." "Gotcha. But--" DK said pointedly, "there's a phone." John stared at the phone. To hear his father's voice again, after all these months. His *real* father's voice. His hands clutched at the arms of the chair, steadying himself against the rising tide of emotions. There'd been days when that thought had kept him from jumping out an airlock; days when the memory of his father had kept him focused on his goal of going home when everything and everyone around him was an enemy...when life had seemed past all hope. His father's voice. "Frell, DK..." he mumbled, close to the point of tears. "I'm too scared to even dial the phone." DK rose gracefully from the chair and brought the phone over. "Would it help if I talked to him first? Let him know you're alive?" "Hell yeah." DK dialed the number, his eyes intent on John. "Hey, Colonel," he said after what seemed to John the longest moment he'd spent in his life. "Fine, and you? Glad to hear it. Listen, I um...are you sitting down?...Sit down..... No, sir, that's not an order, but you're going to want to. Trust me....Yes. .... No, I'm calling from DC. ....Listen...." He took a quick breath. "John's alive. Yes. I mean it. He's here, he's alive. Right in front of me, real as rain." After a moment, DK handed the phone to John. "He's not going to believe it until he hears your voice, buddy." "Dad?" His voice broke on the word like an adolescent boy's. "Yeah, Dad. I know. I know. I..." and then the tears came. "Come to DC. I can't explain it all now. Don't tell anyone, please. I--" he pressed the palm of his hand into his eye, trying to stop the tears. "Come now." "You all right son? You're not hurt?" "No, Dad, I'm not." He struggled for control and succeeded. "No, I'm fine. But the situation's really complicated. I went through a wormhole, Dad," he said, throwing caution to the wind, "and I came out the other side of the galaxy. Some galaxy." "Hold on, John, we'll figure out the details when I get up there. I'll try to catch a plane tonight if I can." "There's more." he said quietly, "You can't tell anyone I'm alive or where you're going." A pause. "What's going on up there?" "There's life out there, Dad. And I brought some of it home with me." The hiss of his father's indrawn breath, then silence. "Dad?" "I'm here. Listen, John, stay right where you are. You sure you're in no danger?" "Not from Aeryn." "Aeryn?" "That's her name. The...the alien I brought back. She's why you can't tell anyone I'm alive or where you're going. Will you give me your word?" "You don't need to ask for it. Where are you? I need to make arrangements if I'm leaving tonight." John dutifully passed on the information, not really thinking about it. He gave the wrong phone number twice before DK sympathetically took the phone from him and finished the conversation. His friend replaced the handset on the phone and sat there for a minute, watching John. "He's going to call us back as soon as he's got his travel information," DK informed him. "He said to tell you he loves you and he's proud of you." John shook his head to clear it. "The worst part of this," he said darkly, leaning forward, "is Aeryn. While she's here....I'm never going to have a normal life again. Not ever. But I'll do it--I'd do anything--to protect her." "I don't think I've ever *seen* you this in love." DK grinned, stretching out on the bed, his long legs crossed. "Love?" John laughed. "No, we're just good friends. Very good friends." DK eyed him skeptically. "Yeah right. The original Mr. Head-Over-Heels claims to be just friends. I've known you way too long, buddy, and way too well for you to pull one over on me." "Okay, so I like her. A lot. But we've just never--I've never--" John looked away for a moment, then back at his friend. "I've never had anything to offer her except a life on the run...that is, if the PeaceKeepers didn't catch up with us. I wanted to come home to you guys; she didn't want to. I guess neither of us wanted to deal with all the consequences of being together. If she even feels that way about me." "You're right though--nothing's ever going to be normal with her around. Are you sure this is the way you want it? Secrecy and hiding and everything?" "What choice do I have?" DK leaned toward him, his eyes earnest. "You could go public. Get it all over with in one fell swoop. Then you'd be free--it could be like it used to be. You and me, none of this James Bond crap." "Sorry, can't do it." John shook his head. "I owe her everything. So we sneak around a little--what's the big deal? The point is: I'm home." "I know you owe her a lot--but think about it. You saw her tonight. She couldn't do *anything*. Aeryn took ice cream from a kid, didn't know how to pay for food, couldn't hold a menu. Hell, she can't speak the language. Don't get me wrong, I like her a lot, but this isn't going to be easy on any of us." "You're right." John shrugged. "She's got a lot to learn. One thing at a time. Right now, she's completely dependent on us but that'll change. I need your help with this, DK. If Dad's willing we'll go live in that cabin of his--you know the one. It's pretty isolated and we'll have time to teach her everything she'll need." "I don't think you're thinking this one through, man," DK objected. "She's a soldier, not June Cleaver. Quiet little life in the country's not gonna make her happy." "We'll adjust." John insisted stubbornly. "Don't worry so much." "Why'd she leave her home to come with you in the first place?" "Hell, its not like I haven't been asking her, but she'd always said no." DK frowned. "Would *you* have gone through for...what's his name...the little slug king?" John laughed. "Rygel. And absolutely positively *never*!" "Seems to me," he said slowly, "that that's kind of my point. You said she'd saved your life the first time not knowing what it would cost her. Right? But this time, she knew *exactly* what she was doing." The click of the bathroom door opening alerted them to her presence and they fell silent. She stuck her damp head around the door. "Are you going to talk all night?" She demanded irritably. "I'd like to talk a little while longer." John replied, his face thoughtful. "Don't forget to brush your teeth." He spread his hands apologetically in the face of her glare. "Sorry." "I think that's my cue, John," DK said. "Hang out a little longer, will you? There's always time for sleep." The two friends gossiped another couple of hours about friends and work and life in general. John felt something relax inside him with the realization that he was home. Really *home*. His mind kept circling dizzyingly around the thought. No more Crais, no more food cubes, no more aliens up his nose, down his pants, in his face.... He smiled sleepily at his friend. "I missed you, DK." "Missed you too." DK glanced over at Aeryn, who was impatiently watching TV and fighting off sleep. "But I think Aeryn's gonna string me up if I hang out any longer." John laughed. "Yeah, don't forget she's a bad ass Peacekeeper. Ever. Stringing people up is what she *does*." DK waved goodnight to both of them and left. John bolted the door behind him and shut off the entranceway light. Aeryn was sitting up in bed, watching him, her eyes somber. Questions and Unexpected Responses "He is a good man." She responded quietly. "John..." "Yeah?" He yawned, stretching. "What does 'go public' mean?" "You heard us talking." She nodded. "It means letting everyone know that I'm back. Officially announcing my return. And no, I'm not." Aeryn looked away from him. "As long as I'm here, you'll never be able to take up a normal life again, will you? You'll be on the run for the rest of your life." "Hey." His fingers brushed her cheek. "Hey, what's going on? Talk to me." She shook her head impatiently. "Not now. I'm tired." "Aeryn, having you here is...is the best part of being home.." He half-smiled at her puzzled look. "I'm serious. So tell me what's going on inside your head. Okay?" "Ask me tomorrow." "Deal. But you'd better answer tomorrow." "Just turn out the lights, Crichton." "Not just yet," he said quietly. "There's one question I *do* want you to answer tonight. Why did you agree to come with me?" She laughed, her eyes lightening perceptibly as her mood shifted for the better. "I don't think you've shut up once since I met you." Aeryn scooted closer to him, halting with her face only inches from his. "You know...Crichton, I really liked that ice cream." "A lot?" He said, his voice deepening slightly. "A whole lot?" His heart was performing some kind of syncopated latin rhythm in his chest, and he felt slightly breathless. "Mmm-hmmm," she kissed his shoulder, then looked back up at him. "Only, one thing...." "What's that?" "That guy said, 'Get a room.' What did he mean?" John grinned. "Come a little closer, babe. Let me show ya." Aeryn slid forward the last inch and pressed her lips to his. I'm going to have to ask her questions more often, he thought hazily as he wrapped his arms around her. Ice cream too. We'll be eating lots of ice cream if this is the response I get.... Part II: The Test Rattlers John barely ate a bite. He just sat there fidgeting while DK and Aeryn talked about life in space and nibbled on the huge platters of food. He translated for Aeryn distractedly, his mind not at all on what she was saying. He had rattlers in his stomach again. Small ones. John shrugged and took another small nibble of whatever food DK had placed in front of him, barely tasting it. "You okay, bud?" DK finally asked in concern. "What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm just nervous." "He's not going to be any good until he sees the Colonel again," DK sighed, exchanging a commiserating glance with Aeryn. "You should've seen him the night before we graduated high school." Aeryn smiled mischievously. "Oh? Tell me." DK launched off into a much exaggerated version of the story--spontaneously throwing in cops, women, bikers and car chases--that left Aeryn laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. John tapped his glass with his fork and cleared his throat. "Tell her you made that up. I was just late--that's all," he explained to Aeryn. DK winked at her. "So he says." "DK!" Aeryn nudged him. "Tell your friend about the time you made Rygel pee on a crowd of hostile aliens." John rolled his eyes and translated dutifully, but refused to tell the story. "Not now, okay? We should head to the airport if we're going to meet Dad's plane." "We have two and a half hours." "DK..." "Fine, fine," DK sighed. "You ready, Aeryn?" They made it to the airport in just under an hour. Aeryn kept turning around and around in the parking lot, watching the planes take off and land. John impatiently grabbed her hand and hauled her along with them. "I'll leave you in the observation area so you can watch, okay? Just come *on* already." He was so nervous he could barely stand still. Nothing can go wrong, he thought, nothing. What could possibly go wrong? I'm going to see Dad again. It'll be fine, he reassured himself, just fine. Aeryn scowled at him but allowed him to pull her into the main terminal. There were lots of people, flooding the upper and lower levels. John was a little surprised--National wasn't all that big of an airport. Aeryn had refused to leave the pistols in the motel room so they couldn't take her with them into the waiting area. The last thing they needed was the metal detectors going off and some clueless guard finding the pulse pistol. The Good Luck Charm She looked down at it, confused. "This is your good luck charm." "I'm worried it might set off the metal detectors. Probably not, but...Just hang on to it for a few minutes, okay? Put it around your neck if you get tired of holding it." "Sure." She shrugged and put it around her neck. John left her and started up the escalator after DK. He turned about halfway up and looked back at Aeryn watching him leave. Proud, slender, strong, beautiful--all words that described her and at the same time didn't do her justice. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her blue eyes nervous and a little wary, but filled with warmth for him. Later he would dream about this last memory of her. Soldier's Reaction Someone yelled. "She's got a gun!" And the room filled with struggling, screaming people. He fought his way down the escalator against the panicked crowd, yelling her name. Two burly guards nearby raced toward Aeryn, drawing their own guns. "Drop it!" One of them barked. "On the ground!" Aeryn circled them on eerily silent feet, alternating her aim between both and not letting them get behind her. The room emptied of people. He reached the bottom and started to run, knowing he was too late, had perhaps always been too late. "Aeryn, no!" She met his eyes for one brief moment, and in his mind he heard the words she'd spoken so long ago. "They will have to kill me if they come to take me tomorrow." She fired, aiming not to hit either of the cops but to force them to drop their weapons and take cover. The observation window exploded outward into a shower of glass shards. The guards dropped to their knees. She ran. "Aeryn!" The guards began climbing to their feet, reaching for their dropped weapons. He barrelled headlong into them, taking both down at once with a football tackle. One of them reached for his gun and he stomped hard on the man's hand, closing his ears to the guard's scream of pain. Aeryn turned back toward him, slowing her flight. "Run!" He shouted. "Go, now!" She fled. He followed, bolting up the escalator steps two at a time. He jumped over the turnstile, ignoring the shouts of the guards at the upper level. John heard the sharp bang of the gun and ducked instinctively. The hard white floor of the station rose up to meet him, and he felt the breath rush out of him as the bullet entered his flesh. He fought against the blackness and the pain, all the wind knocked out of his lungs. "Aeryn," the shout was barely a whisper. Out of the distant corner of his eyes he glimpsed boots in front of his face. Then nothing. Lazarus John groaned and opened his eyes, conscious only of the white-hot mass of pain that was his shoulder and chest. "Hey, buddy," a familiar male voice filtered down to him through layers of pain-filled fog, "welcome back." "Where..." His throat was too parched to speak. "Where am I?" "Bethesda Hospital, son. IASA moved you soon as you were stable." "Dad?" John tried to turn his head toward the voice and couldn't. "I'm here." "DK." "Yeah." He felt a warm hand touch his own. "I'm here too." "What's going on? IASA?" He blinked, trying to clear some of the fog from his head. "Sorry, bud, we had to let the hospital know who you were. The news is out now. 'Astronaut returns from the dead; gets shot in airport.' You made history once again." John focussed on DK's worried, tired face. "Where's...how's...Aeryn?" DK glanced across at John's father, his mouth turning down at the corners. "I don't know." John tried to sit up in bed and groaned as pain lanced across his shoulder, his chest. "What do you mean, you don't know!?" His father's warm hand pushed him back down on the bed. "Don't move. You'll only reopen the wound. We almost lost you for good this time, son." But John wasn't listening. "DK?" DK shook his head sorrowfully. "All I saw was you, buddy--lying on the floor, bleeding like crazy." "How long?" John struggled to remember. "You were in intensive care for two days, John." "Two days." Two days Aeryn had been alone. But they hadn't caught her. He took courage from that fact. "DK, find her, you've got to find her." "Find who, Commander?" The voice was bright, crisp, feminine. He hated the sound of it instinctively. "Mom." He said the first thing he could think of. Dad and DK looked startled, then recovered smoothly. "He's still a little disoriented, Major." Dad said, patting John's hand. "A little?" The voice was amused. "Nora Crichton died when he was..." a brief pause, the rustle of paper, "about fourteen. Isn't that right?" "Yes." John let his eyes drift shut, feigning sleep. He hoped DK and Dad would take the hint and get that woman out of there. He couldn't think enough now to lie convincingly for the inevitable interrogation. Hours of interrogation. He waded back through distant memories of other interrogations he'd been subjected to on the false Earth and made a silent vow. He would *not* be tucked away like some curiosity. But she hadn't been taken. He clung to that thought like a lifeline as he actually did begin to drift toward the blessed pain-free oblivion of sleep. Sara He craned his head around to look at her. She was blonde, mid-thirties maybe, dressed in a no nonsense business suit. "Who are you?" He demanded rudely. "Where's Dad and DK?" "I'm here," DK replied, "I twisted the Colonel's arm and made him go get something to eat. John, this is Sara Michaels." "How are you feeling, Commander?" Sara asked. "Better. Who are you, again?" "Sara Michaels. I work for IASA." She looked at him critically. "You're a rather special case, Commander. Returning a year later without your ship, chasing after some poor woman who was shooting out windows in an airport. Who was she?" "Don't know." He grinned boyishly at Sara. "Guess I just overreacted when I saw her start shooting. Wanted to help those poor guards." ara's perfectly lipsticked mouth turned down at the edges. "Really? How...fascinating. Funny, but the security cameras showed you attacking those guards to save that woman. Camera angles, I suppose?" John kept his face blank. "Must've been." Sara looked away, frowning. "Commander, I'm not your enemy. You've been through an incredible...situation.... It's my job to help you through it. I'll be your liaison with IASA and anyone who wants to see you." "I'm getting through it just fine on my own." "Who was she?" "Look lady, I *told* you I don't know her. I just reacted to the situation. Too much adrenaline." "Too bad. I'd have loved to have met Aeryn Sun." John tensed. "How--" Sara held up a tape recorder and clicked play. His own voice, "I asked Aeryn to come back with me again, Dad. She said no, as usual. I understand why even though she'll never tell me. She doesn't want to be alone and she's afraid that's exactly what she'll be. An alien on a planet full of billions of humans. I don't believe it'll happen that way though. I think you guys'd like her, you and DK, if you can get past her bad ass Peacekeeper act." The recorder clicked off. "That wasn't meant for you!" He snarled through clenched teeth. Sara regarded him calmly. "They'll hear them. Someday." She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. "The description you give of Aeryn in an earlier tape matches that of the woman on camera almost exactly. And the gun that blew out the window could be a PeaceKeeper hand gun." He stared at her. "What do you want?" "Truth, Commander. Listen to me. You could be facing six balding old men with stars and decorations and guns coming out their ass right now but you've got me." She paused for a second, leaning toward him. "Top military brass, government agencies, reporters, and a fair number of wackos all want to take a crack at you. And her. I'm trying to prevent that. So start talking before Aeryn ends up in a morgue somewhere with a nice little tag attached to her toe." "How many people believe that woman is Aeryn?" "Everyone who's heard the tape. They're combing the streets of DC right now. If your little...escapade...hadn't occured in an airport in front of hundreds of people, we'd have a better chance of containing this disaster. As it is, there are atleast twenty news agencies parked outside this hospital." "Any sign of her?" "No. Believe me, I'd hear." She shrugged. "Don't know if I'd tell *you* though." He turned away from her, struggling to get control of his thoughts. Sara Michaels said they were still hunting for her; she was probably okay. Scared but okay. Unless Sara were lying. If they had her tucked away somewhere--if they weren't continuing the search to misdirect the media while they locked her in a glass cage and studied her like some kind of specimen. John deliberately stifled the flow of his thoughts. He had to accept Sara at face value but keep his eyes open for *any* signs that she wasn't telling the truth. Plots within plots, he thought furiously, lie on top of lie. He didn't put it past any of them. "I'll leave you to think it over, Commander." Sara said softly. "Just remember that every minute you delay, she's out there alone." He thought for a long while after she'd left, turning his options over and over in his mind. They knew who Aeryn was--or at least suspected. They had his tapes. They had him. DK settled in the guest chair near the bed, uncharacteristically silent. He *had* to find her. But it was also a safe bet that if they let him out from under their guard that he was going to be tagged and studied and followed everywhere he went. In finding her, he'd doom her to the very thing he wanted to prevent. There was only one thing he had that they didn't--something he hoped they might want badly enough to bargain with him. The afternoon drifted by into evening as he lay there and worried. Dad came back in and sat with him too, but he didn't really want to talk. Sara did not return that day and he was glad. He let CNN drone on in the background. Every hour a picture of his face, of Aeryn's, another retelling of the tale of the astronaut returned from the dead. But no new updates, nothing telling of Aeryn's capture or her death. He finally slept, conscious of his Dad's presence and taking much comfort from it. Wheeling and Dealing John woke with a start, blinking his eyes against the bright morning sunlight. Sara Michaels walked into his field of view carrying a tray. "They're putting you on solid food today, Commander. Congratulations." He grunted. She set the tray down on the hospital table next to him. "That's good news. Even if it is hospital food." She made a face as she sat gracefully on the edge of the bed. "Did you have a chance to think over what I said yesterday?" John pushed the tray away. "Yeah." "And?" "First, tell me the truth--did they find her?" "Well, at least we're past the "I was just rescuing a damsel in distress" stage," she said brightly. "And no, there's still no sign of her." He breathed a sigh of relief. "All right, lady," he said softly, meeting her eyes, "let's deal." Sara's eyes widened in surprise. "Deal? What do you have that we could want?" "I know where the Farscape is. And you've been listening to those tapes so you know that we've modified it with alien technology. Technology that only *I* know. That's got to be worth a lot." And would you be willing to build us another ship of the same design?" He blinked, caught off guard. "You want to build another Farscape." "Something like that. Maybe even something bigger." "Why? One giant leap for mankind? Come on. You're not the type." "No, because we know now that there's life out there." She frowned, considering him thoughtfully. "You went somewhere for all those months and came back different. Physically and mentally. The life you met out there isn't exactly friendly, Commander, and *I* believe we need to be prepared to meet it." "So you're hunting her down," he replied bitterly, "the first alien life to come to our planet." Sara tsked. "Aeryn's not an ambassador and you know it, so don't play that card with me. She's an escaped prisoner, as dangerous and desperate as they come." "She's my friend." "She's crucial to the survival of life on this planet. We *need* her." "No," he said, "you need me. I know as much if not more than she does about hech drives at this point." Sara smiled condescendingly at him. "She knows weapons technology, military strategies, political situations--knowledge potentially more valuable to us than how to fly around in space. When we get there, Commander, we want to know more about them than they do about us, and be better armed." "Do you want the Farscape or not?" She nodded decisively. "Yes, we want it. How badly depends on what you're looking for in terms of a deal." "Get off Aeryn's back." "Can't do that." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. Next?" "All right then--I want a house in this area with a laboratory attached for working on the Farscape. I want a generous monthly stipend and access to any resource I need for the project. If DK and Dad are willing I want their help--and by willing I mean you have to *ask* them. Nicely. Most of all I want my freedom. I want to be able to go anywhere and talk to anyone I want." So I can find Aeryn. She rose from his bed and pushed the food tray back over to him. "I'll see what I can do." "You do that," he said, "call in some favors if you have to. But without that, no deal." "Understood." She shut the door firmly behind her. John breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't much but it was a start. He didn't believe he'd have gotten them off Aeryn's back anyway, but he wanted them to know what he wanted. The rest of the week passed like a bad dream. Sara came back and informed him curtly that the deal had gone through; arrangements were being made even as they spoke. He spent long hours talking with his Dad, renewing old ties and telling stories of his life in space. Periodically they were interrupted by doctors or nurses who came to check John's wound, his pulse, his temperature. He scowled at them, slapping their hands away more often than not. They'd argue with him for a while and finally go running off for Sara. Sara. He was getting sick of Sara. She monitored his every contact. She was there when he awoke in the morning and sometimes when he went to sleep at night. When she left him alone it was only to arrange for more of the endless stream of interrogators pretending they were here for his own wellbeing. Those interrogators were better than the ones who didn't give a damn about him or, even worse, were flat out suspicious of him. Every waking moment of his life was approved or rejected by Sara. She spent hours observing him, quizzing him, cataloguing his every reaction. He muttered a few choice words under his breath. "Yes, Commander?" She looked up from her corner chair. "You said something?" "Yeah, I said something," he returned waspishly. "I said that I want the hell out of here. Now." She tilted her head, considering. "That's up to your doctors." "I'm fine," he sat up slowly, ignoring the twinge of his shoulder. "You know the deal...I get out, I get the house and the lab and a generous spending account. You get the Farscape. Now keep your part of the bargain." "Keep yours. Where's the ship?" He slid his legs over the side of the bed, his eyes mocking. "I'll show you. Frell, I'll show you right now, but let me *out*." Her mouth tightened and she put down her book. "You've been pretty sheltered in here, Commander. You don't know what its really like outside this room." "I don't care." "You will." She gazed out the window, considering. "You're not exactly loved by your fellow humans. Those that don't think this is all some kind of hoax or scam--and they're plenty enough, let me tell you--think that you're the alien version of the Antichrist. Somebody," and her eyes promised murder to that particular individual, "leaked the news that you have microbes in your brain. So voila, all the X-Files fans came pouring out of the woodwork yelling about government conspiracies and hostile alien takeovers and calling for your blood. And if you think *they're* bloodthirsty you haven't met Dan Rather or Barbara Walters." "I don't care," he repeated stubbornly. "Let me out." If it was that bad for him, safe under guard, what was it like for Aeryn, all alone and hunted out there? If they thought that he was an alien, and wanted his death, then they were hunting her too. He mentally chalked up one more strike against her. "Now." "If you insist. I'll go make the arrangements." She rose from her chair and walked to the phone. Legion John talked of D'Argo's qualta blade, unity with Zhaan, Rygel's greediness, Chiana's barbed laughter. He spoke about Pilot and Moya and Moya's pregnancy. He talked of Crais, of the man's obsession with him and the death of his brother. But last of all--without meaning to--he talked about Aeryn. How she'd given up her life for him, her selflessness and courage in battle, her practical sense of humor and tendency to try to fight her way through every situation. He pleaded with them to leave her alone, to accept her, and then finally stumbled to a halt, close to tears. "Commander? Commander!" The shouting started again all at once. John pointed at the first reporter he saw, a tall blocky man whose face was somehow familiar. "Commander, will the PeaceKeepers be coming here? Is Aeryn Sun really here to scout out Earth for possible conquest?" He stared at the man. Hadn't they heard a word? Maybe this guy was a flake. He spat out a sharp retort and took the next question. "You said they injected you with alien germs..." "Translator microbes." "Right. Are these microbes somehow used for mind control? Can Aeryn Sun infect Earth's population?" John's hands tightened on the podium. The next question was along the same lines, and the next, and the next after that. He finally found himself shouting at them, pleading with them to *listen* to him. These had been his friends, not an advance invasion force. Aeryn was one woman, not something out of some horror movie. At long last Sara stepped forward and concluded the questioning, turning the reporters over to a lanky public relations guy. She rested her hand on John's arm and motioned for him to precede her off stage. He went in a daze. As soon as he was out of sight of the vultures he stopped and leaned against the wall. Sara approached him, her face furious. "What the hell was that?" She demanded sharply, grabbing his forearm. "*That* was not what we rehearsed. I *told* you not to talk about Aeryn Sun." "Go to hell." "I'm trying to be nice, Commander, but you're not making it easy for me." "You?" He laughed derisively. "Lady, you probably slapped your own mother on the way out of the womb." He leaned forward aggressively. "I want that house, Sara, and I want it *now*. No more interviews, no more interrogations." Her eyes flashed dangerously. "I don't think so. We need you, Commander, but you need us even more." John snorted. "Yeah, right. Even if you do find Aeryn, who's going to translate? Who's going to build the warship you want?" Sara shook her head. "I know you're not stupid, John Crichton, so don't act like you are. Learning from Aeryn is *my* priority--not everyone's. A lot of the powers that be want her dead--plain and simple. The more you disobey me, the worse I look. The worse I look, the less credible I am. And then your darling Aeryn ends up on a metal table with some greasy coroner salivating over her cold, dead alien body. Got it?" She stalked away from him but he reached out for her, spun and slammed her up against the wall. "You are one sick bitch," he snarled. "Yeah, but I've got a job to do. And since for the moment you and I both want Aeryn alive, I'd suggest you start cooperating." She broke his hold and stalked away from him. "I want her free, too," he muttered under his breath, watching her stiff retreating back. "Not just alive but caged." He looked back toward the still-shouting mob of reporters. "Hell," he said to himself, rubbing the back of his neck, "I can't even manage that for *myself*." He followed Sara back to the briefing room, not sure what else to do. Dreaming He shivered, suddenly cold. His breath steamed in the frigid air. That was wrong too. He'd arrived on the false Earth in early summer. John frowned and turned back around. Aeryn stood behind him in the observation room. She was looking toward him but didn't seem to see him. He started toward her, smiling. Maybe this *was* a false Earth like the last one. Maybe those aliens wanted just to do another test, to be sure if the human reaction they'd gotten from him was correct. If so, then it was time to go home again, because they were letting him see her. He pressed the button to open the door to the observation room. It clicked once but nothing happened. John stared at it puzzled and pushed it again. This time it came off in his hand, crumbling away into little shards. John knocked on the window to get Aeryn's attention but she didn't hear. He knocked a little louder. "Aeryn, hey Aeryn," he said. She turned from the window and wandered over to the bench lining one wall. Aeryn folded her legs underneath her and leaned back against the wall, staring into space. "Aeryn?" She reached into the pack beside her and pulled out her pistol, stroking it, blowing a little dust off it. John knocked harder. "Come on babe, look at me, we're going home soon I promise. Aeryn? Aeryn!" She rested her head against the wall and lifted the pistol up with one shaking hand. She placed the pistol in her mouth. John began to throw himself against the wall, slamming his open palm against the glass. He shouted her name, over and over again. "We're going home! This is another false Earth! Aeryn!" She looked right at him then. John froze, his face pressed up against the glass and his warm breath fogging her from his view. Her eyes. Her eyes were still alive but seemed dead, beyond the point of despair. He'd never seen eyes that like that. Ever. And they were *her* eyes and he started yelling again but she just kept looking at him and then her finger tightened on the trigger and he woke, trembling, in his bed. My Soul "Commander?" The startled security guards assigned to him questioned. He didn't bother to answer, just ran to the door opposite his and burst in. Sara was still awake, patiently going over maps with her staff. She glanced at him, alarmed. "I'm sorry, Ms. Michaels," the guard apologized behind him, "he just came running out." She waved the man's explanation away and faced John, her eyes questioning. He didn't speak, just stood there clenching and unclenching his fists. Finally she broached the silence. "Go ahead, Commander." "Whatever you want," he stammered, "whatever you want--the Farscape, my soul--just get me *out* of here." Sara scrutinized him for a long moment. Her eyes softened briefly. She touched the shoulder of the man beside her, never taking her eyes off John. "Major, please make sure the house is ready for the Commander and his family. Also check to make sure that the IASA gets a plane ready, and has trucks and equipment in position." "Yes, Ms. Michaels." "We'll recover the Farscape first thing tomorrow." He bent his head in relief, fists still clenched. "Thank you," he replied. Her mouth lifted in a mocking grin. "Don't thank me yet. We can't let you be truly free until we've found Aeryn Sun." She jerked her chin toward a multi-colored map on the wall. "Care to help us?" "Never." Sara sighed and turned away. "Suit yourself." He stood for a moment longer, watching her. They would never stop hunting her. Flying John stared sourly at the other passengers. Sara. Suits. Guards. The flight crew. All of them had gawked at him as they passed, trying to appear nonchalant but definitely not succeeding. Yeah, yeah, I'm a space traveler. I fraternize with aliens. Get *over* it already. The press had got wind of this too, and the long walk to the jet had been longer with their distant shouts echoing in his ears. Tensions were running high too in John's little group because it seemed they had a leak somewhere high up in the ranks. Sara's eyes flashed fire whenever talk came around to that particular subject. "Comfy?" Sara asked, coming around to stand just behind him. "Need anything? A blanket or pillow?" He grunted. "Go away." Sara's breath hissed, sharp and furious, between her teeth. "Do try and cooperate with the IASA board members, Commander." Sara paused, biting her lip, her tone changing from fury to pleading. "Please." Pleading? From her? He twisted around to look at her. She seemed sincere, earnest even--the polish for one moment dropped to reveal the genuine emotion underneath. "Why?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "There's a lot of dissension right now, a lot of talk about turning the project back over to the Military. If that happens--" "I get tucked away in Area 51 for the rest of my life." She nodded, quick and sharp, and left him. John spent the rest of the flight smiling until his face hurt and fending off questions from the IASA board members about his journey. Every so often he'd catch Sara's relieved glances in his direction. So, he thought, you've got some stake in this. Somewhere. If I can just find it, I'll have some more room to bargain. The Spinning Earth "Must be good." He said quietly. "Page 147 that is." "Hmmm?" "Page 147. You've been reading it for about thirty minutes now." The horizon tilted as the plane made a minor course adjustment. Sara's hand tightened on the paperback, crumpling the pages and bending the flimsy spine. John realized that she was trembling. "Sara?" She looked in his general direction. "What's it like, Commander?" He blinked, confused. "What's what like?" "Being up there." Her voice faltered. "Seeing the earth spinning underneath you." "Amazing. Incredible." He laughed softly at himself, amused. "Better than sex, I thought, my first time out there. Coming home though--that was the best of all. I've had enough of space for six lifetimes." Sara shifted a little in her seat. Her hands rested in her lap, smoothing the torn book obsessively. "Promise me something. Wait, never mind, that was a stupid thing to say. Never mind. Never mind, okay?" "Is there something you're not telling me? Because if you're holding anything back--" She took a deep breath. "No, Commander. Could you...would you...tell me about your first time in space? What it was like?" Puzzled, he complied, letting the memories take him where they would. "I was so tempted to just turn Columbia around and head straight for the moon, just to get there, to see what my dad saw all those years ago. I couldn't of course. I think it was then," he continued, "that I knew I was going to spend my whole life trying to take us farther. Even in space we were still trapped by the planet and I *hated* it. When I got back DK and I dreamed up the Farscape. Still its nothing compared to flying around inside a *living* ship...." "...and the rest, as they say, is history." Sara finished. She opened her book with trembling fingers, uncreasing the pages and wriggling the cover back and forth to straighten it. "Thank you." Bending her head, she seemed to suddenly become engrossed in her reading. Farscape She shook her head. "Not without cutting down half a mile of old growth forest. They might try a helicopter crane. Why'd you land *here*?" He put his arm around Sara's shoulder and leaned in close, whispering intimately into her ear. "I can fly it out." "Straight up? It's not designed--" John grinned crookedly. "It is now. Well?" Her eyes narrowed and she studied him. "What are you up to?" "Nothing. Boyscout's honor," he said and he meant it. "I just want to fly her again." Sara shifted on her feet indecisively, darting glances between him and the ship. "All right," she said at long last, "I'll suggest it. Don't be surprised if they don't go for it though." "You worry about that," he replied sweetly, "now run along and tell them to let me play with my ship. Okay?" He patted her arm encouragingly. "Think you can handle that?" She bit back a sharp retort and stalked off through the trees to the knot of men in uniform. Sara argued with them for a few minutes, then turned and walked back toward him, followed by one of the men. "Commander, this is Major Joseph Twain." "Commander." Twain was a dark-haired man in his late 40's or early 50's. Pure military, John thought, studying him. Born Raised and Trained. "Ms. Michaels tells me you can fly that ship out of here and save us all a lot of time and money." "Yes." Twain pursed his lips, considering. "I'll be honest--I don't trust you. But that would sure be something to see. So here's what we're going to do. I'll roust up a couple of flyers from a nearby base to escort you and make sure nothing goes wrong. One bad move and they fire. Understood?" "Understood." "Oh, and one other thing--pick someone to go with you. You might risk your own ass but you won't take a chance with someone else's. You're just not that kinda guy." "No, I'm not." John's voice sounded bitter to his own ears. "Fair enough." Twain nodded and started back down the hill. Sara stayed, watching him expectantly, her eyes glinting. "Who are you going to take, Commander?" "Dad. If he'll go." "Oh." He stared at her. "You thought I was going to take *you*?" Her eyes narrowed. "No, of course not." "Then be a good girl and go fetch my Dad." He grinned at her. "Fetch him yourself." She stalked off, scowling. Score one for the Lost Astronaut, he thought. The score's still 200 to 1 their favor...but damn that 1 sure felt good. He stood there casually for a few moments, then sauntered to his dad and DK. The two of them were talking earnestly to one side of the main group. They stopped as soon as he approached. "Dad," John signaled for his attention, "how would you like to be my copilot? Really see what the Farscape can do?" "I'd love to, son, but how is that possible?" "I made some arrangements." He gestured up at the approaching planes. "If you're up to it." The Cage The leaks continued; John was startled each time he saw something they had done or said featured in the 6:00 news. It only happened every few weeks, on average--just enough to keep their work in the public's attention without revealing too much of the IASA's tightly held secrets. There was still no "official" word about Aeryn, although there were lots of sightings. Most of the sightings occurred in the DC area, but none panned out as a legitimate lead. Time passed, and the IASA security net settled over the area, waiting for Aeryn to make the wrong move that would betray her to their watchful eyes. Searching He hummed as he walked, pleased at being able to get the drop on his captors for once. He still thought of them that way, even though they'd moved him into a house and essentially shared his living quarters. Temporary living quarters, he corrected himself. As soon as he found Aeryn he'd take her...he'd take her....well, somewhere else. Hawaii, maybe, or Canada. He'd always wanted to see Europe but hadn't yet been. Somewhere they could live their lives in peace. John let himself be distracted by the fantasy. He knew in his bones that they'd never stop hunting her. He himself was only useful so long as they needed his expertise with the biomechanoid technology. Plans for the new spaceship were being drafted day by day by the ecstatic team of engineers and scientists they'd assigned to him. He walked onto the main drive and started to jog, enjoying the crunch of dried autumn leaves under his feet. He was going looking for Aeryn. Not to find her--they still watched him too closely--but just to let her know he was looking for her. For whatever that was worth to her. If she could take some comfort from that, he wished to give it. He passed the main gates and waved cheerily at the guards, then turned left onto Massachusetts Avenue and began to walk into the DC city limits. He'd figured from Sara's map that he could cover maybe ten miles before noon, which was when they'd come collect him for his lecture on hech drives. He frowned a little. Noon didn't give him nearly enough time. If he could switch the work schedule to evening then he'd have all day to walk. This was his first day of many days of searching. Every evening he'd come back, grinning at the exhausted guards, and bolt up to his room to mark his map. Every street he'd been down, crossed or looked sideways at was highlighted with a yellow marker. The first week or two were the toughest--he was more driven than he was really physically capable of handling at that point. But as time went on and he drove himself to keep searching he grew more fit. And the more fit he got, the harder he pushed himself. Aeryn was out there, somewhere. Human Evolution The Farscape shifted a little as Sara slid headfirst into the cockpit, legs balanced precariously on the seat. "And this..." she muttered, "connects to this line here..." Did the woman never sleep? "...which connects to...where does it connect to?" She worked her way farther down in. "Come on, where do you go..." John had to admit she'd surprised him. He'd taken her for a suit, pure and simple, someone whose sole function in life was buying and selling power. But she'd been all over the Farscape from the instant they'd laid eyes on it. Granted she didn't know as much as the engineers, but she knew enough to follow, and she picked it up quickly. She slid all the way in and turned herself around, coming upright again. Her hand brushed dishevelled hair away from her smudged forehead. "We," she said decisively, "could use some of those DRD's you talked about, Commander." "Couldn't figure out where it went?" She shook her head, frowning. "How did you get it in there in the first place?" He grinned. "You said it. DRD's. And Aeryn. You don't want to get in her way when she's got her mind set on something." Sara arched one eyebrow at him. "I thought you said she didn't like scientific...ah...pursuits." "She doesn't." He rested his head on his arms. "I had to do a *lot* of fast talking." Sara laughed. "Sounds like you're good at that." "Yeah." He straightened abruptly, looking intently at her. "What's your deal?" "What?" "I can't figure you out. One minute you're...you're hunting my best friend to her death and the next you're wading through engineering manuals like they're trash romances. I don't get it." She shrugged. "There's no deal, Commander." "Hell there isn't. Come on. You owe me." "Well," she said, leaning on the lip of the cockpit and peering down at him, "I really shouldn't." She hesitated. "What did you want to know?" "Okay." He thought for a second. "First, why are you involved in all this?" His broad gesture took in the whole lab. "I mean, IASA and me and all of it." Sara's hand rubbed the side of the ship. "Remember you said that I wasn't the "one giant leap" type? I am. No, I am." She brushed another stray lock of hair behind her ear, looking earnestly at him. "I believe...I guess I believe that space is our next step of evolution." He snorted. "We haven't been back to the moon in over thirty years." "Until you." "Point taken. But--" "No matter what, Commander, life expands. That's what it *does*, its nature. Life started in the ocean, then went to land and air. Now we've got space." She grinned, her eyes lost in thought. "Think about it. Taking life to its next phase of evolution. This is what we've been bred for--to be the next wave of explorers--its what we do best. *This* is the time, right now, and I get to be part of making it happen." "But you're hunting Aeryn like some kind of animal, to...to study her." She shrugged. "We're not going to get there by being nice, Commander. Consider this--maybe, just maybe, I'm the best thing that's going to happen to her. I won't autopsy her, for one thing. Could care less about her biology. I want to *learn* from her. If we're ever going to get this species off the ground we need to know what she knows." "So she'll live the rest of her life in a glass cage." Unwillingly he recalled his dream of a few weeks ago. "She'd rather be dead." "I can't help that." "Yes, you can," he said persuasively. "You *can*. Just...call off the dogs. Let her go." Sara exhaled. "They're not my dogs. I can't. And even if I could...and no, don't start, I *can't*...how will that help her? If she's not already dead she will be. She'll starve or some wacko will find her or she'll catch some disease. We're the best chance she's got." "She'd rather die." Sara threw up her hands, her eyes flashing. "What did you *expect* would happen when you hauled her back here? The two of you would live your life in some quiet little house in the country? Hm? Don't be stupid, Commander. You came back because you wanted to come back and you didn't give a damn about her." John slammed his hand into the hard metal hull of his ship. "I didn't ask her...she just said we were going! It was *her* decision." "That's what I can't figure out." She shook her head furiously. "This is not a nice world, Commander, and its not hers, and you're the only one who won't admit it." "Maybe she..." he trailed off, not willing to pursue the subject any longer, not with Sara. "Second question." "Go ahead." "If I were to help you, could you guarantee she'd be safe? And maybe, one day, free?" "No guarantees. I wish I could. I honestly do. I'll do everything in my power--I promise you that." John considered the idea for half a second before rejecting it absolutely. He would do everything he could to help her, but he could never reveal her location. She would rather die than give up her freedom. Even the free life of a fugitive was better than the life of a prisoner. Both of them had learned that lesson too well aboard Moya. Jane Doe "I think," he mumbled at his Dad and DK through a mouthful of cereal, "that I'm going to walk Connecticut. She's been there before." e took some quick gulps of milk. "Son--" his Dad said, exchanging a worried glance with DK. "Hang on a minute, will you?" He looked up at them, puzzled. "Love to, but I've got to get going. Connecticut's a pretty long street." "We've...we've got somewhere else to try first." "Where's that?" DK scrubbed his hand through his dark hair and stared down at his own untouched bowl. "When we, ah, didn't hear anything," he cleared his throat, "we...your dad and I...started calling hospitals. Just--just as a precaution. You know, to be sure, and ah...yesterday...John--" "What DK's trying to say, son, is that we've been calling the morgues and local hospitals." Jack Crichton laid a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. "Yesterday someone found a Jane Doe matching Aeryn's general description. The body's being transferred to the state medical examiner's office this morning." John stared at them, stunned into silence. DK looked over at Jack Crichton worriedly. "We'd just have gone, but--no one knows her better than you, bud. And the body's in pretty bad shape." "No." He croaked. "She's not--I'd know if she's--" "I hope not, son. I really do." "No." "It's not true, Commander," Sara said quietly at the foot of the stairs. "We've been checking the morgues ourselves. But this wasn't Aeryn. We tested the body." John rose to his feet, torn between relief and outrage. "When were you planning to tell me this?" "If we were sure, then we'd most likely tell you." Sara responded. "But we've already performed the autopsy and the tests are conclusive. Its just a Jane Doe." He stared at her, aghast. "You're autopsying bodies. You'd cut her *open*. You cut *somebody* open." She turned away from him, her back stiff. "I needed to be sure. At this point, Commander, its getting harder to keep the powers that be out of my way. Any one of them could decide to start looking for her. That's not counting your average Joe." She glanced back over her shoulder at him before exiting the room. "If she hasn't already starved to death." John sat heavily back on the wicker chair, resting his head in his hands. He was distantly aware of his Dad's comforting hand on his shoulder. Suddenly he jerked to his feet, shaking them off. "I've got to keep looking, Dad, no matter what." He turned and made his way slowly to the window and gazed outside. "No matter what." He owed her that. Secrets John shook his head. "Not yet I--" Sara's phone rang. She sighed and pulled it out of her purse. "So much for plans," he said softly as she flicked it open and hit the on button. "Yes. Yes. What?" Her face blanched. "Yes, on my way. Northwest. Got it." John stopped eating and watched the rapid changes of emotion cross her face. Sara shut the phone decisively, her face suddenly blank. "What's going on? Sara?" "Twain thinks they found her." "Wh--They...Aeryn?" He was on his feet and halfway to the door. "Where?" "Nebraska and Connecticut. Some apartment complex." "Come on!" He grabbed her hand and practically yanked her out the door before another thought occured to him, causing him to freeze. John swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in his own throat. "Sara, um, she's not..." "No, she's alive." They ran out to the garage, Sara shouting orders to the security force who were scrambling to follow them. Without thinking John climbed into driver's side, but Sara just tossed him the keys with a curt nod. "Move faster, Commander. I think--" "What?" He started the Explorer and shifted into drive. She looked away from him as they peeled out of the garage. "I don't trust Twain." "You think he'd--" "I don't know. Take a right at the light. Gut instinct." He spun the wheel hard and right, screeching through the intersection at the last instant and nearly losing the security team behind them. "So why put him in charge of the hunt..." Her jaw tightened. "I told you before, they're *not* my dogs. Twain's not even IASA." John blinked, startled. "Then who is he?" "'Security Consultant'. That's all they'd tell me. Specialized training." The strain on her face was obvious. John floored the pedal and accelerated through another intersection, nearly sideswiping a green Pontiac. "Aeryn's in his custody. You promised me she'd be safe!" He said accusingly, swerving around another car. "These people won't hurt us. It's going to be fine. The last time, with Wilson and Cobb--that wasn't Earth. That was those aliens' way of testing me, by bring out all the bad things they believed might happen. You know that, right?" She looked at him for a long moment, considering, and then nodded. "She's not in his custody yet. They've surrounded the building and they're evacuating tenants as we speak." "Frell." John's knuckles whitened from the pressure he applied to the steering wheel. "Jesus, Sara--how many other members of your little playgroup don't you trust?" She didn't bother to answer, just fumbled open the catch of the purse on her lap and pulled her cellphone back out. She turned it on and tapped the keys for her phone list, then hit speed dial. "This is Sara Michaels, IASA. Hi, Lark, how are you? Can you give me the usual deal? Good." She paused listening. "Yeah. Nebraska and Connecticut. Now." John watched her out of the corner of his eye as he weaved in and out of traffic. She hung up the phone and dialed another number. "Left here, Commander, then right at the next stoplight....Hi, Sara Michaels, IASA...is Denise there? I'll hold...." "What are you doing?" He hissed at her. "What I did when they found you, Commander. Keeping it public." John's eyes widened in surprise. "You...you're the leak! Why?" He struggled with the idea. "You could lose your job. Or more." She shook her head and smiled lopsidedly at him, the phone still held to her ear. "This has never been about my job." ....Time passed. Twain's team didn't find Aeryn in that apartment complex, but they did find an old tshirt, her gun, and a set of bootprints in the gravel outside a second story window. She'd been there, they knew it, and it only increased their determination to hunt her down. John spent his time searching for her, but his hope dwindled with each day. Aeryn had managed to survive this long on Earth, he hoped she could hold out until they could be together. But he no longer believed that they would be. So like a tin man he went through the motions of his days, waiting, hoping for some sign that he didn't believe would come. Sara Revealed "Sorry, Commander," Sara spoke quietly, "go back to sleep. I'll just be a minute." The door shut. John rolled over and peered out his window at sights so familiar they made his heart ache. Florida. Canaveral. He could smell the fresh air, hear the sound of the waves pounding the beach. "Sara?" He called out, uncertain why they had stopped. They weren't near any gas stations, stores, or even the town. "Sara, what's up?" No answer. Frowning, John sat up and got out of the vehicle, walking around to the driver side. Sara was nowhere to be seen on the road, but the beach was blocked from view by a large dune. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled her name, drawing out the syllables. Still no answer. Concerned now, John started down the path to the beach, feet sliding a little on the loose sand. As he came over the top of the dune he caught sight of her standing on the beach staring out over the water. Staring at the Space Shuttle on its launching pad. "Yo, Sara!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled again. She turned her head and nodded acknowledgement of his yell, but remained otherwise motionless. He walked toward her and stood silently beside her for a minute, gazing at the Shuttle. "Which one is it?" He said finally. "Discovery. Launching early December. Beautiful, isn't she?" He laughed out loud. "You *are* a space nut." "Many astronauts are, Commander. Weren't you?" "You're an astronaut? Wait, you're telling me that you're...you're an *astronaut*?" She sighed but didn't take her eyes off of the distant launchpad. "My first flight was supposed to be the mission after yours. But you caused some serious fall out, and it got rescheduled." John kept on staring at her. Sara shrugged. "I've always wanted to go into space. I loved flying planes but I wanted more. My dad encouraged me so much, you know--we'd have tang for breakfast every morning and he even took me on every rollercoaster on the east coast--especially the ones that went upside down." She smiled. "It was the closest thing we had to a simulator." "And your mom?" "She left right after I was born." Sara shrugged again. "Never knew her. But anyway--I applied myself to school, worked really hard and got into Harvard on scholarship. Blah blah blah--got accepted into the space program, all that stuff. Then my father got cancer. He said--he made me promise--I would get into space while he was still alive. I almost did." "Sorry." "For what? Taking a trip across the galaxy?" "Yeah, you can say that again. I meant I'm sorry about your dad." She brushed her hand across her cheek and he realized with a start that she was crying. "Me too. Stopping here to look at the shuttle was kind of a tradition for us." "So...how'd you get the job of escorting my sorry ass around the country?" "After my mission got scrubbed, and Pop died, I guess I got a little obsessed. Every moment I had I studied the Farscape, the trajectory angle, CRC numbers, everything. Grief does strange things. So I'm sort of the resident expert on the matter." "But DK--" "DK knows Farscape--and they're not sure he can be trusted. I'm their expert on you." "Me." "Yeah. I told you I got a little obsessed. I know *you*. This whole scheme was my idea--and I had to talk pretty fast, believe me. 'If he's really been out there, let's get him to build us another ship.' I pushed it to their greed because that's what they knew best, and to their curiousity a little too. 'IASA gets out there, gets dibs on the planets and resources we find, gets to sell the technology.' So I got pulled from the STS-103 Discovery mission and assigned to you. End of story." She spun on her heel and strode back up the beach toward the truck. "Coming?" John shook his head, still feeling a little shocked. "Yeah, coming." He followed her up to the dune and stopped there, looking back over his shoulder at the Discovery. One thing still didn't make any sense-- "Sara," he said quietly, reaching out to grip her shoulder. "Why'd you give up your dream of going to space...for this? It was everything you've ever wanted." "I thought it was everything I ever wanted. Maybe it still is. I haven't given up, Commander, I'm just tired of the lies. I'm still going up there. Sooner than you think--if you'll help me." He blinked, pieces of a puzzle coming together in his brain. "You're going to fly the new Farscape, aren't you? You're going to try to create another wormhole and fly through it." She nodded, meeting his startled gaze. "I'm the perfect candidate for this mission, John. No family, no life--nothing except absolute dedication to the goal. I don't care if I do come back, really. Now come on, or we *are* going to be late." John scrambled around to the passenger side of the truck and hopped in, slamming the door behind him. Sara sat down, shifted the truck into gear and roared back onto the road. He kept staring at her, thoughts tumbling through his head so fast he didn't have time to speak them. "What?!" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "You don't understand what it's really like out there, Sara. Don't go." She actually laughed. "The point is finding *out* what its like out there, Commander, not sitting around hiding my head in the sand. Hiding *our* heads in the sand. I'm very willing. It's my destiny." He scrubbed one hand over his face. "Listen to me. Please. There's no such thing as destiny." "You can say that? YOU? You crossed the threshold to the other side and came back to make it all possible for the rest of us...and *you're* telling *me* there's no such thing as destiny?" "Yeah, because if there were such thing as destiny, then Aeryn would be sitting here with me instead of you." Sara slammed her hand into the steering wheel, her eyes flashing. "Then why the *fuck* did I have to wait? Why did I have to sit there and watch Pop die--knowing that I'd never keep my promise? Because you made more than that possible-- because soon we can take more than just a couple of orbits around this stinking rock. And I'm going, Commander. If I can. If you'll help me." "When did he die?" John's voice was low, unhappy. "One month ago, yesterday." "But that means he was still alive when you were managing me." "Yes. I told him, too, that I was going up there. Going farther than just around the planet. He...couldn't really understand me, at that point." John looked out the window. "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry. Help me. Stop mooning about your precious Aeryn and *help* me get out there." "Sara, I was out there, and the best thing I ever did was come home. Doesn't that tell you anything? I got lucky, coming on Moya when I did. What if you end up between planets with no way home? Or in the middle of another space battle, but on the wrong side?" "I'm not afraid of death." "Some things are worse than death." Sara slammed on the truck brakes, yanking the wheel so the truck skidded onto the gravelly shoulder of the road. "You are so goddamned sanctimonious you make my teeth hurt. What's worse than death, Commander? Sitting around waiting to die? Giving up the only life I've ever wanted? I couldn't do it. I hate the scheming, but I don't want to give up that promise." "Listen to me, please," John pleaded with her, "just listen. The promise you made to your Pop--I understand wanting to prove something to your father. Trust me--I'm a classic example. But I don't want to make this suicide mission possible for you either. Death is not the worst thing--just ask Aeryn." "There is no point to my life if I don't go on this mission. It's my duty, my breeding...everything I was trained for." John closed his eyes, leaning his head hard against the window. "You remind me so much of Aeryn right now that it hurts." "Good. Then maybe you'll make a promise to one of us that you can keep." He flinched as through she'd physically struck him. "Jesus. Jesus, Sara--" Her face crumpled and she covered it with her hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." "All right." John leaned toward her aggressively. "Here's the deal. You stop being such a bitch all the time, you tell me everything--I mean *everything*--right now. And especially you tell me everything you know about Aeryn. Then, maybe, just maybe I might decide to help you." "If you don't cooperate the military might start gunning for her, you know that." "I know that. But I can't help her if I don't know what's going on. So spill it. All of it. Or I'm going to become the most uncooperative son of a bitch you ever laid eyes on." "Commander--" "And I'll tell IASA you're their leak. Least they'll do is make sure you never see the Farscape again. Ever. Hell, I bet you don't even fly a god damned Cessna after that." He thought, I've got your number lady, and I'm sorry but I won't be nice about it. I can't afford to be nice about it. She took a deep, quavering breath. "What do you want to know?" "Aeryn." "Okay." She took another deep breath. "They don't have her. You've been told the truth about that. Twain thinks they're getting closer all the time though. She's good. Very good. And she's got help--they can't figure out all of who, but they've got it narrowed down to about a dozen militias or splinter groups across the country." "She's still in the city though?" "Yes. I overheard Twain say they think she's trying to stay close to you. That's why they let you go searching without many guards." "...using me to flush her out of hiding..." he mumbled under his breath, feeling sick to his stomach. "At the very least, you're keeping her in DC. They hope she'll try to make contact, but so far that hasn't panned out." "Ah, hell, I've been playing right into their hands, haven't I?" She nodded. "The press, the Farscape...they don't care about those?" "They care about the Farscape, but its less of a priority. They have your tapes, and they don't need the biomechanoid technology to get through the wormhole. That technology just makes getting into space very, very inexpensive. Lucrative, but not top priority." "And the press?" "They're part of *my* game. Keeping Aeryn and you in the limelight so they can't hide you away so easily." "Start driving." John slouched down in the seat, trying to think. So many lies, so many angles....he'd need DK and Dad to get his way out of this one for sure. No way to move...if he contacted Aeryn, he'd be damning her to life under guard. Or worse. If he kept searching, she'd stay in the city. She's got to get out, he thought, panic tainting his thoughts. We're stalemated here--worse than stalemated. This whole planet is the glass cage I dreamed about. "It's all been a lie, hasn't it, Sara? You never had any control over this." "No. Yes. I had no control. I just...I had my own agenda. Nothing else mattered." "Keep him cooperating? Was that it? And you get to fly through the wormhole." She was silent. "Well?" "Yes." He studied her--the thin, tanned face, the generous mouth turned down at the corners with strong emotion. "How can you live with yourself?" Sara sucked in air, eyes closing. "I can't. I can't. That's why I told you. I can't do it any more. It's not worth the price--even keeping *that* promise, it's not worth it." "Little late to discover a soul." Her fists clenched and she seemed to struggle with herself. "Yes." That more than anything convinced him she was genuine. "I told you to start driving," he tapped the steering wheel. 'And keep talking." John had to know everything. No room for kindness, no room for mercy. "Now." Betrayal John shook his head. "No, no ass kicking." He glanced over at Sara who was just climbing out of the cab. "DK, you got a minute?" His friend frowned, looking back and forth between the two of them. Sara's nod was almost imperceptible, but John caught it and wondered. "Sure, John," DK replied. "What's up?" John jerked his head in the direction of the backyard. "Not here. Let's go in the back." He led the way out , holding the door open for his friend. The air was chilly, the trees bare of leaves. Even the sky seemed gray-ish with the oncoming winter. John shivered and wished he'd brought his coat out with him. They were likely to be talking for a while; DK was not going to *believe* what he'd found out about Sara Michaels. They halted near the back fence. DK blew on his hands and then stuck them in his pockets. "Cold." "Yeah," John replied, suddenly not sure how to begin. Just start, he admonished himself. "I need your help. Sara's told me everything." DK's eyes flickered back to the house. "Everything?" His voice lifted nervously on the last syllable. "DK," he said quietly as soon as Aeryn's shower started, "I have a huge favor to ask you." John stared, frozen into stillness. No. No. This can't be happening. "John," DK choked, "you've got to understand--" "Understand *what*? What did you do? What did you *do*?" John shouted, half incoherent with rage. "No, no, I don't want to know." He grasped DK's shirt in his fists and half-lifted, half-threw him against the fence. "Why?" He leaned close. "God, DK!" "You barely made it through the night after they removed the bullets--and you were so worried. You didn't need any more stress. I thought--Sara and I thought--" "Sara's in this for herself and always has been." "I know." "You...you *know*? You know that she's an astronaut, about her dad...all of it?" John shook DK. "Well?" "Yeah," DK replied miserably. "I met Sara right after you went through the wormhole. She's the first person I called after they took you to the hospital. We were afraid they'd lock you away forever." John clenched his fist and drove it into the smaller man's stomach. DK doubled over with a grunt of pain. "You promised me!" John shouted, knocking DK's hands away and driving another punch into his friend's jaw. A warm hand closed over John's arm, forcing him away from the object of his rage. "Son, stop this." His dad drawled quietly. "Stop." John slowly released DK, stepping back. "I assume you knew, too, Dad." "About Sara," DK explained, "and her dad. John doesn't know the rest, Colonel." "Tell me." He met his dad's eyes. "What have you done?" "Inside, son, where we'll be more comfortable. It's cold out here." "Freeze." John ordered, still trembling on the edge of violence. "Talk to me." Sara stepped out of the back door and hovered there by the entrance, watching them anxiously. "Her too." He pointed at her. "Everyone talking all at once." He turned his hand palm up and crooked his finger, beckoning her over. Sara's feet dragged but she came, slowly, toward them. "Commander?" She glanced at him, then his Dad and finally DK. Sara gasped. "You're bleeding!" She fumbled in her coat pocket for a kleenex and dabbed his upper lip. "What happened?" "Never mind that now," DK said, submitting patiently to her ministrations. "Why did you tell him?" "Off topic," John muttered, "way off topic." He looked at his dad. "You first." "No, let me start," said DK. John nodded. DK exhaled heavily, leaning a little on Sara for support. "From the beginning. Your dad got off the plane to bedlam--people shouting about guns and terrorists and who knows what else. Then, there *you* were lying there bleeding. I kept thinking I'd lost you again--one day of having you back and you were gone, dead for sure this time. They got you to the hospital in the nick of time. I was freaked, and the FBI had you locked down tight. We couldn't even get close." "So he called me," Sara chimed in. "I don't know why." DK shrugged. "The first thing we figured was we had to keep anyone from taking you away from us. If you survived, I mean. They'd figure out who you were anyway but if we could involve the press, get it public, maybe we could keep it so out in the open that they *couldn't* stick you out in Area 51. Sara started calling tv stations and papers. Your dad let himself be seen, giving credence to the reports that the injured man was, in fact, Commander John Crichton." Sara shivered, rubbing her arms. DK pulled her closer, putting his arm around her to help keep her warm. She said, "We had lots of time to talk in the emergency room, Commander, before IASA officials arrived. We wanted to keep you free and out of the interrogators hands." "The easiest way to do that was to convince IASA that you would cooperate with them freely. When we heard those tapes, we realized that Aeryn was the best bargaining chip we had." John scrubbed one shaking hand across his face, his eyes closing. "Why didn't you tell me this?" "At first because you were so ill. We didn't want to worry you any more than we had to," said DK. "Son, you're more stubborn than your mother. You'd never tell anyone about Aeryn--even Sara could see that. But you *had* to--or we'd lose you forever. Again. I couldn't handle that." His dad gripped John's arm tightly. "I thought losing your mother was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. Then I lost you. I couldn't go through that again, not while I had the means to prevent it." "So you lied to me. Protected me from myself. Let me believe I was helping her when all the time I was just the bait in the trap. Thank God she's too smart to fall for it. I wish to hell I was." They fell silent, not sure what to say. "You--" he pointed one vengeful finger at Sara, "you I can understand. You had a promise to keep, and you thought you could help them at the same time. But you two...I don't think I can ever forgive you." He pivoted on his heel and walked away from them. Tin Man He stopped into a small bar just south of Dupont and pulled a stool up to the bar. The pretty brunette bartender tried to strike up a conversation but he wasn't feeling chatty. His second beer became his third, then his fourth and fifth. He slapped a tip down on the bar to get the bartender's attention. "Another, please," he asked. "Sure," she smiled, reaching under the bar to hand him another. "You look like you're feeling better." "Not much," he replied curtly. "But thanks for asking." John took another long sip. His heart felt dead inside him, barely beating. He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the tide of dark emotion. He had briefly considered escaping but couldn't see how that would help her. At best, they'd tighten the net over the city to find him. At worst, they'd somehow manage to keep tabs on him, and when he found her, they'd find him. His eyes closed and he pictured Aeryn as he'd last seen her. They parted company in the main hallway near an observation window. John turned back to her a few seconds later, on impulse pressing his dad's puzzle ring on the silver chain into her hands. "Here." But that memory led places he didn't want to go--seeing her running, pursued by the guards; the crunch of the guard's hand under his foot and the man's scream of pain; the last moments of consciousness as he struggled to yell her name. He shut those thoughts off and thought back to the night before, at the ice cream shop. Paying for the cones, riding the metro, brushing her teeth--skills that seemed so important for her to learn that seemed so insignificant now in light of all that had happened. Waking up with her in the morning. Thinking it was the first morning of many to begin that way, and being completely wrong about it. Two full days and three nights with her on Earth. It had to end. He still needed his family. He still loved them. They had done what they'd done out of love for him and fear of losing him. Looking at it from their perspective, he didn't know that he could have done any differently. What was done has been done--no changing it. Aeryn's gone. If he was lucky she'd given up on him and sought shelter elsewhere. John mouth turned down at the corners and he took another draught of the bitter ale. The IASA had not found her yet and perhaps they never would. But neither would he. Good Luck Charm The cute bartender blinked up at him. "Nothing." He smiled wanly. "Just thinking. Hey, what time is it?" "Almost 11." "Thanks....uh...?" "Kelly," she supplied, stretching out her hand. "And you are?" "John." He shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. This bar doesn't close soon, does it? Its been a while since I've been to a DC bar." "Nah, you've got a few hours yet. The metro shuts down around midnight though." Suddenly she frowned. "Oh, I almost forgot." She reached into her pocket and pulled something out. "Some guy said you dropped this." Kelly lay something down on the bar. "He said if you had any questions he'd be upstairs." She poured a mug for another customer, moving away from him down the bar. Frowning a little, John moved his beer aside to get a closer look. Something silver glinted. A silver chain...a silver chain with a puzzle ring on the end. His heart stopped beating for one endless moment. Fanatic "Yeah?" She glanced up at him curiously. "Who gave this to you? How long ago?" "Some guy," Kelly shrugged. "About fifteen minutes ago. He went upstairs, remember?" John took off up the steep stairs, taking them two or three at a time. The narrow stairway opened up to a small room with another bar--unmanned--and a pool table. Behind the table were the doors to the men and ladies' rooms. No one was in the main room. John burst into the men's room, anxiety making him reckless. What if he's gone-- No one in the center. John bent over to peer for feet under the stalls. Please please please-- A heavy weight slammed into him from behind, knocking him headfirst into the sink. The ring flew from his hand, landing with a clink on the dirty bathroom tile. John sank to the floor, clutching his head, seeing stars. Unseen hands lifted him and pinned him against the wall. He smelled rank garlicky breath, and saw a pair of close-set blue eyes. He heard the click of a pistol safety being snapped off and went suddenly, absolutely still. "Thought you'd come after me." The man grinned sardonically, pressing John harder into the wall. "She asked me just to give you the ring and leave, but I had to see you for myself." Those blue eyes looked him up and down skeptically. "Aeryn?" John asked, trying to collect his thoughts agains the fuzziness in his brain. "Where is she?" "Safe enough. You're a hard man to get alone. The Powers have been watching you for weeks." John met the man's eyes and shivered despite himself. Those close-set eyes had an almost unholy blue gleam. Fanatic. The muzzle of the pistol pressed against his head. "It'd be a real coup to slip you out right out from underneath Them. Really blow a hole in all Their schemes. Unless," he blinked, looking suddenly crafty, "that's what They want me to do. Maybe this is a trap." "Why'd she ask you to come here?" John tried to distract the man from his train of thought. "To give you back the ring." John took a deep breath. "Please, tell her to keep it. Tell her...tell her to not make contact with me. Can you do that?" The fanatic sighed, exhaling heavy garlic-laden breath in John's face. "How 'bout I just take you with me?" "And if they follow us? You're not doing her or you any good by doing that." The man snorted. "You're with Them." "No, no...I'm with her. You tell her that. But also tell her--tell her I can't *do* anything without making it worse. She needs to leave the city, get as far away from me as possible. Understand?" The man considered that. "Yes." John held his eyes, willing him to reach Aeryn safely with the message. "Tell her...maybe. Someday." "I'll tell her." Those blue eyes narrowed with evil intent and John felt the painful blow of the pistol hitting his head. He sagged to his knees, the stars back in force. The man bent to scoop up the puzzle ring and left, the door swinging shut behind him. "Crichton." A booted foot nudged him, hard, in the ribs. "Crichton, wake up!" John climbed slowly to his feet and half-walked, half-staggered to the still-swinging door. Hope Realized "Nasty looking scar." John turned slowly, not believing his own ears. Aeryn crouched against the far wall, watching him warily. She was thinner than he remembered, her face paler. Her long black hair was tangled and dull, and she had a bruise on one cheek. The puzzle ring on its silver chain glinted in the light as she moved. "Hey," he said softly, crouching down low to be on eye level with her. "I've been looking for you." "I know. I've seen you." She paused, her face deliberately blank. "Are you with them?" "No, Aeryn you know that--" He stammered, "I just didn't know how to help you. I thought if we could find you, I could--I mean--" She nodded sharply, once, accepting his answer. Relief rushed through him. "How are you?" She pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes. "Alive." She looked at the raised scar on his chest. "Glad to see you are, too." "It was touch and go," he said offhandedly. His eyes darkened, looking at her. "Why are you here? You know that they're probably watching this place." "They are. I've seen you dozens of times around the city, but--" She shrugged and moved toward him in a low, fluid crouch, deliberately keeping under the window panes and out of sight of any passerby. He reached out and touched her cheek, reassuring himself that she was real. His eyes closed briefly. "What do you need, Aeryn?" "Your ship. Help me get it." "You're leaving." John smothered his instinctive inner protest that it would be fine, that he'd work it out, really he would-- The time for believing that was long past. "Yes." He heard a distant echo of Sara's voice: "This is not a nice world, Commander, and it's not hers, and you're the only one who won't admit it." He stifled it firmly. "How are you planning to create the wormhole?" "I don't know." She'd need him. She was a good flier but science was *his* specialty. "And if you can't?" Aeryn pressed her lips together, refusing to answer. One way or another, she wasn't coming back. If she had to fly that damn ship manually to the moon she wasn't coming back. Cold dread rose inside him, making his heart pound and his fists clench. "Jesus, Aeryn--" he heard himself whisper. A bitter little smile crossed her face. "Will you help me take the ship?" "Yeah. Yeah." He replied miserably. "Whatever you want, you know that. Is there anything else you need?" "A warm place to sleep. Your planet is cold at night." He buried his face in his hands for a brief second then looked back at her. "I can do you one better than a warm bed," he offered quietly, "how about a warm shower?" While she showered John kept a wary eye on the door and packed her some clean sweatshirts and a pair of longjohns. He picked out a warm turtleneck, sweatshirt and pair of Calvins and placed them on the sink for her when she came out. He also rolled up a pair of socks and an old pair of his jeans for her. He knew the jeans wouldn't fit her but she'd need extra clothes as winter came on. The shower shut off and he sat on the bed in silence, listening to her rustle around the bathroom. After a moment she came out dressed in the sweatshirt and calvins he'd provided. "Come here," he said, patting the bed. "Let me dry your hair." She gave him an odd look but obediently sat down beside him, turning her back to him. John lifted a towel to her hair and slowly began to dry it. Aeryn sighed and relaxed a little. "Thank you," she said. He swallowed. "Don't mention it." They sat for a moment longer in strained silence, neither one wanting really to talk. "Aeryn.... " He cleared his throat harshly. "Aeryn, where have you been all this time? Do you want to talk about it?" "No." He accepted that quietly, then, "Why did you come?" She shifted impatiently on the bed. "I told you. To say goodbye." "No... no, I mean, originally. Why did you come?" "Ask me that tomorrow." Meaning never. "No." He reached around her and placed the towel under her mass of still-damp hair and then tucked it around her shoulders. "Tell me now." She made a small protesting noise. John closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her. "Tell me," he insisted. "I...I saw the look on your face. When you thought that you weren't going to go home because I was there. I thought, frell it, I can't go home anyway, I want to try yours." Her back stiffened. "Here we are." "Yeah. Here we are." John buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her. Aeryn looked down shyly through her long lashes. "I said before that I have a lot to blame you for, Crichton. But I don't." She pulled away, then shifted on the bed to face him. "Do you still trust me?" John said finally. "Trust you." "Yeah," he said softly, "I'm going to get us out of this, Aeryn, if I can. I pr--" Aeryn only looked at him, not bothering to respond, and the words dried up in his throat. "You should sleep now." He said after a long moment, resting his hand on her shoulder. "I'll keep watch." She nodded and lay back on the bed, pulling the blankets around her. He maneuvered a chair into the corner so he could see both her and the door. John rested the pistol across his lap in easy reach. It wouldn't be much--she'd taken such a horrible risk to come here--but he hoped he'd be able to buy her enough time to get away. And if she did make it safely out, what then? She'd get the Farscape--if she wasn't captured in the attempt. She'd fly out to space. She'd try to create a wormhole--and if she didn't, she wasn't coming back. They will have to kill me if they come to take me tomorrow. He'd faced this choice before, and had decided. But then--then, he'd thought that they'd still be on Earth. There had still been hope of someday seeing his father and friends again. If he left with her now, he knew he'd never return. John had thought the first choice was one of the hardest decisions he'd never made, but compared to this one it was easy. He thought: The one thing I've wanted more than anything else all of our time on Moya. My friends and family and familiar places. My home. And its *killing* her. Even if she stays and survives the winter without getting caught, she'll succumb to the living death by summer. No matter where she goes--one hot day and she's had it. I promised her I'd never let that happen. Aeryn might be able to make the wormhole on her own. She was damn sure determined to try. He'd stay here, never really having the freedom he'd had before, but he'd be living on Earth. With Dad. DK. A chance to get married, have a real life, eat a cheeseburger when he wanted it, take a walk in the autumn and hear the crunch of the leaves under his feet....but all without her. Without knowing what had happened to her. The hardest choice he'd ever had to make, and the easiest. Life without Aeryn-- Sara had been right. "What did you *expect* would happen when you hauled her back here? The two of you would live your life in some quiet little house in the country?" John had wanted a normal life again so badly that he couldn't even admit it to himself; had clung to it past the point of hope. But that life--any life--without Aeryn was no life for him at all. Aeryn lay with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. "Sleep," he ordered. "You need it." She sighed and rolled over to face him. "I'm too tired to sleep." "Try," he said quietly. "We have a long night ahead of us." Aeryn blinked. "You'll help me steal the ship tonight then?" "No. We're getting the hell out of here. Tonight." "Of all the---Stop, John, just stop, all right? This is your home." "You ready?" He said finally, ignoring her objection. "You know that Moya is weeks gone." "Yeah," he said gruffly, "yeah I know. But that doesn't change if its one or both of us that goes out there." "Then--" He sighed. "You won't accept 'because' will you?" "No." "Then--" he swallowed hard again, pushing back fear. But this was no time to be thinking about day to day concerns. He'd waited weeks to see her. Not just see her. To know she was breathing, her heart beating, her skin still warm.... She was here. Here in front of him. /Last chance, John. Moment of Truth./ He sat on the bed next to her, frankly a little terrified. "Then--um--" he bent over and told her, softly. Aeryn's eyes widened in surprise, and then her hand gripped his, fingers twining between his. "Well? You ready?" He asked at last, not knowing what else to say. She laughed. "You'll have to ask me that tomorrow, Crichton." "Deal." He reached out his other hand and she put her free hand into it, letting him pull her off the bed. "Tomorrow. Wherever we end up." He grinned at her, relief sweeping through him, and tugged her into his embrace. She stiffened, a little startled. "Aeryn," he whispered, "that *is* a promise." He felt the tension go out of her. Aeryn's arms tightened around him. "Ready?" She asked softly. John held her for a moment longer, simply enjoying the feel of her in his arms. After a moment he released her and sat back, still holding her hand. "Ready." He had no idea where they were going, or what would happen next. He just knew that they were going there together. Resolution She took them out to the field behind the house and halted near a small stream. They talked for a while--DK and Jack questioning, Sara quietly explaining. Finally she pressed John's goodbye note into their hands. They left together, grieving. Sara herself remained outside for a few more moments, enjoying the bright autumn sunshine. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a videotape, turning it over thoughtfully in her hands. John had never even suspected that his room had been bugged. Lucky for him that she'd been the one monitoring the equipment last night. Shortly after John and Aeryn had left the house she'd made a copy of an earlier tape and replaced it for this one, then sat back and waited for the inevitable call. It had come just a few minutes ago, startled military personnel giving her the expected news. John seen entering the lab last night, presumably alone, to work on the ship. The lab bay doors left open. The Farscape gone. And, high above the planet in the darkness of space, satellites had indicated the bloom of a wormhole. Sara carefully placed the tape on the soft grass, ready to grind it to shards with her bootheel. She hesitated, though, and picked the tape up again and tucked it in her coat pocket. Later--before the inevitable investigation--she'd hide it somewhere safe. The confessions, the promises, the leaks to the press--all thrown away in one moment. All gone now. I didn't have the heart to do it--after everything I've planned, I couldn't bring myself to capture her. I'm sorry, Dad. I couldn't keep my promise to you. The price was too high. Sara stared up at the sky, wishing John and Aeryn well. But there was a half-finished space ship waiting for her; she was going to try to salvage her plans. If she could. She would never see the Earth spin beneath her, now, but perhaps someone else would get to live that dream. If she was careful enough, diligent enough, dedicated enough--it could still happen. Humans were about to become interstellar travelers, and they needed to be prepared. She squared her shoulders. There was work to be done. The End Black Balloon Comin' down the world turned over |
Ask Me Tomorrow
By: Kitsah
Aeryn is lost on Earth...and John must choose between her and his life forever
Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama - Words: 29,339 - Reviews: 23 - Favs: 9 - Published: 1/3/2000 - id: 5090
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Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten
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