'Next Time'
This was the single most embarrassing moment of Bialar Crais' life. If he'd ever been asked to name the ten situations he'd least like to be in, this one would never have figured on it - it was too horrible to contemplate.
At the very least, Crichton was making a valiant effort not to laugh.
He was also trying not to look at Crais. He couldn't look at his face, because then he'd never be able to keep from laughing. And he couldn't look anywhere else because...well, he just couldn't. But not looking at him made it very difficult to do the job he was here for. There was a certain art to picking locks, and it did involve careful concentration. Especially if those locks happened to be attached to handcuffs.
"So," Crichton said, trying to improve the situation, "do you have any idea what you might have done to make her so mad?"
"No," Crais said, through gritted teeth. "I have not."
"It seems a little...out of character."
"Indeed."
"You must have said or done *something*. She wouldn't just leave you...like this."
Crais thought back over their earlier conversation.
"I remember nothing."
"What were you talking about?"
"I would rather not discuss personal matters," Crais answered, in a futile attempt to retain some dignity.
"Fair enough," Crichton said, "but if you don't figure out what you did wrong, what's to prevent this happening again?"
A look of horror Scorpius would have been proud to create flashed across Crais' face at the thought of going through this a second time.
"We were discussing how we met."
"When you tried to strangle her and she stabbed you in the leg."
"She wanted to hear about my first impressions of her," Crais continued, ignoring Crichton's last remark.
"And you told her...what?"
"The truth."
Crichton closed his eyes.
"Which would be?" he asked, beginning to understand the situation.
"That when I first met her I thought she was little more than a spoilt child. And that, at the time, I was chiefly concerned with...."
"Aeryn."
"I assure you, that is in the past."
"You actually told her that?" Crichton asked, torn between total disbelief and the overpowering desire to laugh. Fortunately he knew Crais well enough to realise that that would be suicide.
"Of course," Crais said. Crichton was wearing his 'humans are superior' expression. He *hated* that expression.
Crichton finally succeeded in undoing the cuffs and threw Crais' jacket and pants at him. Crais pulled them on as quickly as he could, hoping to get Crichton out of his quarters and escape any more humiliation.
"Why on Earth did you do that?"
"She asked me for my honest opinion."
The battle against laughter was lost.
"Can I give you some advice?" Crichton asked, trying to stop his shoulders shaking.
"If you must," Crais answered, his pride thoroughly affronted and not feeling in a position to refuse.
"When a woman says 'be honest', what she means is 'tell me what I want to hear'."
"I find that extremely hard to believe."
"It's true."
"I do not think that Officer Sun would respond that way."
"There's an exception to every rule and Aeryn's the exception. But she's not the issue. Jool is the issue and, believe me, the rule applies to her."
"How can you be certain of that?"
"Have you forgotten why I'm here?"
Crais' eye caught the cuffs lying on his desk.
"Since you seem to know so much about this, perhaps you could suggest how to repair the damage."
"You're actually asking my advice?"
Crais eyed the handcuffs again.
"It may be necessary for my survival." He replied.
***
Jool was in the medilab, working on some unknown project. Or, honestly, not working at all. She was pretending to be working. What she really wanted to do was sit in a corner and howl. Did that mean she was the spoiled brat that Crais thought she was? When he'd first said that, she'd got angry and she'd wanted to hurt him for saying such a mean thing. Now she just felt hurt and ashamed. Hurt because of what he had said and ashamed over what she had done. He'd probably never speak to her again.
She knew that when she'd arrived on Moya she hadn't been well liked. The one person she'd believed could like her was D'Argo. But she wasn't blind enough not to see that he still longed for Chiana, whatever had passed between them. At first, she'd thought this could change, but it hadn't. She'd been miserable. Far from home, her family dead and in a world of violence and fear that would have been beyond her comprehension before she came here. The others hadn't hidden their idea of her as a child. She hadn't been one in her world. She'd tried to find her feet, she knew her skill as a medic gave her some standing at least, but she'd been more unhappy than she'd ever believed she could be.
And then...Crais.
They hadn't got off to the best start, it was true. She'd had a good look at him while he was unconscious and couldn't deny that he was handsome. But all thoughts of that nature had flown out of her head when, upon waking, he'd nearly killed her by strangulation. But probably any of the others would have done the same thing if they'd woken up and seen a strange face looming over them - especially if they'd just escaped an attack. Gradually she'd come to realise that they had something in common. They were the outsiders. She was new to Moya and unused to their lifestyle, he was an old enemy and not yet trusted. She'd made tentative attempts to get to know him and everyone knew how that had worked out. And then Crichton had happened.
And now this.
She'd overreacted, she knew that. She had asked him to be honest. Wasn't honesty a good quality? She would have to apologise. He must be furious, she thought. Maybe I should just give him a little time to cool down.
***
He had to apologise. He'd rather walk on hot coals. Apologising meant admitting that he had been wrong. Crais liked to be right. He wasn't so sure that he hadn't been. But it seemed that his right action had been in the wrong situation. She must be angry with him, he hadn't seen her for two solar days. More times than he could count, he'd started towards her quarters. More times than he could count, he'd stopped before he'd taken more than a couple of steps. It was ridiculous to be scared, he wasn't scared, merely...apprehensive. Yes, that was it. Apprehensive enough to consider jumping ship.
Crais approached the door of her quarters. They opened at his command.
Jool wasn't there.
Crais looked around him. Jool's quarters were full of things she had got at the last commerce planet they'd visited. She'd added a certain amount of luxury. The kind she missed being here. There were also several boxes full of infochips. She'd taken to collecting whatever scientific information she could find, it was her way of trying to be useful.
He'd spent quite a bit of time here recently, so it didn't seem strange for him to be here without her. Having got this far, he decided to wait for a while. He settled himself at the table in the corner and looked idly at an information pad. It turned out to be very interesting. He forgot where he was after a while and didn't hear the door when it opened.
Jool had had a terrible day. At first she had thought it best to give him some space, but it had been two solar days and he hadn't even been in the same room as her. She'd had another fight with Chiana, even though she had no real idea what it had been about, she couldn't find the infochip she needed for her work and she'd been thrown against the wall when Moya had accelerated and her arm was killing her. This was the point where her new outlook deserted her. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry.
Crais heard the sniffing, looked up and got a shock. She hadn't seen him. She was here and she looked more miserable than he'd ever seen her. And at least part of that must be his fault. He wanted to comfort her, but didn't have the slightest idea how. Considering how she felt about him at the moment, seeing him was likely to make her even more upset. Still, he couldn't just sit here and he couldn't leave without her noticing. So he would have to try.
Jool heard the footsteps a microt before he reached her. A moment of panic gripped her. Without thinking, she turned and lashed wildly at the figure. She heard a surprised yell. She looked at the figure on the floor and gasped. If he hadn't been furious with her before, he must be now! But then, if he still hated her, why was he here? It didn't make sense. Unless...he had come to apologise.
"Bialar!" she said, slapping his face in an attempt to wake him up.
His eyelids flickered and he came round.
"I was afraid you'd want to kill me," he said. "It seems that I was correct."
"I didn't know it was you," she said, feeling very foolish.
"I came to...apologise."
"I should apologise too."
"I realise now that I could have been more...tactful."
"Next time I won't tell you to be honest unless I mean it."
"Next time?" Crais asked, hope beginning to appear.
She smiled shyly.
"Next time," she answered.
This was the single most embarrassing moment of Bialar Crais' life. If he'd ever been asked to name the ten situations he'd least like to be in, this one would never have figured on it - it was too horrible to contemplate.
At the very least, Crichton was making a valiant effort not to laugh.
He was also trying not to look at Crais. He couldn't look at his face, because then he'd never be able to keep from laughing. And he couldn't look anywhere else because...well, he just couldn't. But not looking at him made it very difficult to do the job he was here for. There was a certain art to picking locks, and it did involve careful concentration. Especially if those locks happened to be attached to handcuffs.
"So," Crichton said, trying to improve the situation, "do you have any idea what you might have done to make her so mad?"
"No," Crais said, through gritted teeth. "I have not."
"It seems a little...out of character."
"Indeed."
"You must have said or done *something*. She wouldn't just leave you...like this."
Crais thought back over their earlier conversation.
"I remember nothing."
"What were you talking about?"
"I would rather not discuss personal matters," Crais answered, in a futile attempt to retain some dignity.
"Fair enough," Crichton said, "but if you don't figure out what you did wrong, what's to prevent this happening again?"
A look of horror Scorpius would have been proud to create flashed across Crais' face at the thought of going through this a second time.
"We were discussing how we met."
"When you tried to strangle her and she stabbed you in the leg."
"She wanted to hear about my first impressions of her," Crais continued, ignoring Crichton's last remark.
"And you told her...what?"
"The truth."
Crichton closed his eyes.
"Which would be?" he asked, beginning to understand the situation.
"That when I first met her I thought she was little more than a spoilt child. And that, at the time, I was chiefly concerned with...."
"Aeryn."
"I assure you, that is in the past."
"You actually told her that?" Crichton asked, torn between total disbelief and the overpowering desire to laugh. Fortunately he knew Crais well enough to realise that that would be suicide.
"Of course," Crais said. Crichton was wearing his 'humans are superior' expression. He *hated* that expression.
Crichton finally succeeded in undoing the cuffs and threw Crais' jacket and pants at him. Crais pulled them on as quickly as he could, hoping to get Crichton out of his quarters and escape any more humiliation.
"Why on Earth did you do that?"
"She asked me for my honest opinion."
The battle against laughter was lost.
"Can I give you some advice?" Crichton asked, trying to stop his shoulders shaking.
"If you must," Crais answered, his pride thoroughly affronted and not feeling in a position to refuse.
"When a woman says 'be honest', what she means is 'tell me what I want to hear'."
"I find that extremely hard to believe."
"It's true."
"I do not think that Officer Sun would respond that way."
"There's an exception to every rule and Aeryn's the exception. But she's not the issue. Jool is the issue and, believe me, the rule applies to her."
"How can you be certain of that?"
"Have you forgotten why I'm here?"
Crais' eye caught the cuffs lying on his desk.
"Since you seem to know so much about this, perhaps you could suggest how to repair the damage."
"You're actually asking my advice?"
Crais eyed the handcuffs again.
"It may be necessary for my survival." He replied.
***
Jool was in the medilab, working on some unknown project. Or, honestly, not working at all. She was pretending to be working. What she really wanted to do was sit in a corner and howl. Did that mean she was the spoiled brat that Crais thought she was? When he'd first said that, she'd got angry and she'd wanted to hurt him for saying such a mean thing. Now she just felt hurt and ashamed. Hurt because of what he had said and ashamed over what she had done. He'd probably never speak to her again.
She knew that when she'd arrived on Moya she hadn't been well liked. The one person she'd believed could like her was D'Argo. But she wasn't blind enough not to see that he still longed for Chiana, whatever had passed between them. At first, she'd thought this could change, but it hadn't. She'd been miserable. Far from home, her family dead and in a world of violence and fear that would have been beyond her comprehension before she came here. The others hadn't hidden their idea of her as a child. She hadn't been one in her world. She'd tried to find her feet, she knew her skill as a medic gave her some standing at least, but she'd been more unhappy than she'd ever believed she could be.
And then...Crais.
They hadn't got off to the best start, it was true. She'd had a good look at him while he was unconscious and couldn't deny that he was handsome. But all thoughts of that nature had flown out of her head when, upon waking, he'd nearly killed her by strangulation. But probably any of the others would have done the same thing if they'd woken up and seen a strange face looming over them - especially if they'd just escaped an attack. Gradually she'd come to realise that they had something in common. They were the outsiders. She was new to Moya and unused to their lifestyle, he was an old enemy and not yet trusted. She'd made tentative attempts to get to know him and everyone knew how that had worked out. And then Crichton had happened.
And now this.
She'd overreacted, she knew that. She had asked him to be honest. Wasn't honesty a good quality? She would have to apologise. He must be furious, she thought. Maybe I should just give him a little time to cool down.
***
He had to apologise. He'd rather walk on hot coals. Apologising meant admitting that he had been wrong. Crais liked to be right. He wasn't so sure that he hadn't been. But it seemed that his right action had been in the wrong situation. She must be angry with him, he hadn't seen her for two solar days. More times than he could count, he'd started towards her quarters. More times than he could count, he'd stopped before he'd taken more than a couple of steps. It was ridiculous to be scared, he wasn't scared, merely...apprehensive. Yes, that was it. Apprehensive enough to consider jumping ship.
Crais approached the door of her quarters. They opened at his command.
Jool wasn't there.
Crais looked around him. Jool's quarters were full of things she had got at the last commerce planet they'd visited. She'd added a certain amount of luxury. The kind she missed being here. There were also several boxes full of infochips. She'd taken to collecting whatever scientific information she could find, it was her way of trying to be useful.
He'd spent quite a bit of time here recently, so it didn't seem strange for him to be here without her. Having got this far, he decided to wait for a while. He settled himself at the table in the corner and looked idly at an information pad. It turned out to be very interesting. He forgot where he was after a while and didn't hear the door when it opened.
Jool had had a terrible day. At first she had thought it best to give him some space, but it had been two solar days and he hadn't even been in the same room as her. She'd had another fight with Chiana, even though she had no real idea what it had been about, she couldn't find the infochip she needed for her work and she'd been thrown against the wall when Moya had accelerated and her arm was killing her. This was the point where her new outlook deserted her. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry.
Crais heard the sniffing, looked up and got a shock. She hadn't seen him. She was here and she looked more miserable than he'd ever seen her. And at least part of that must be his fault. He wanted to comfort her, but didn't have the slightest idea how. Considering how she felt about him at the moment, seeing him was likely to make her even more upset. Still, he couldn't just sit here and he couldn't leave without her noticing. So he would have to try.
Jool heard the footsteps a microt before he reached her. A moment of panic gripped her. Without thinking, she turned and lashed wildly at the figure. She heard a surprised yell. She looked at the figure on the floor and gasped. If he hadn't been furious with her before, he must be now! But then, if he still hated her, why was he here? It didn't make sense. Unless...he had come to apologise.
"Bialar!" she said, slapping his face in an attempt to wake him up.
His eyelids flickered and he came round.
"I was afraid you'd want to kill me," he said. "It seems that I was correct."
"I didn't know it was you," she said, feeling very foolish.
"I came to...apologise."
"I should apologise too."
"I realise now that I could have been more...tactful."
"Next time I won't tell you to be honest unless I mean it."
"Next time?" Crais asked, hope beginning to appear.
She smiled shyly.
"Next time," she answered.