Tormented Space spread beyond the window, a sticky coffee stain on the map of the universe. An intentional detour. Turn left at the North Star and straight on till Doomsday.
*What was I thinking?*
It's all tormented space for him. What difference did a designation make? A rose by any other name still stood a snowballs chance in hell, to mix a metaphor or two.
He didn't hear the footsteps; Scorpius defied sound when he walked, but John was aware of the change. Like a drop in air pressure before a storm. The static charge as thunderclouds formed.
Fingers twitched at his hip, brushed the butt of his pistol. "What do you want?"
Scorpius came forward, paused beside him, not turning his head. Thoughtfully watching the swath of darkness outside Moya. "I hoped we were beyond that question."
"We're not beyond anything, Scorpy. Don't forget it."
"I forget nothing."
John moved from the center of the portal to the edge, putting distance between him and the Scarran half-breed, giving him a place to rest his shoulder. Studied the figure before the window. "You wore out your welcome. Ain't it time for you to go? Cut the apron strings?"
Chin lifted slightly, Scorpius clasped his hands before him. Stared straight ahead. "I suspect I wouldn't survive long on my own."
"Feed it to someone who cares. I don't give a damn what happens to you."
"Not entirely true." Scorpius turned, shoulders and head twisting, a piranha grin and precise eyes.
That look John hated, that made him feel he was missing something vitally important. Wouldn't know what it was until too late. "This a quiz? I'll take Know Your Enemies for a hundred, Alex."
"You refused to kill me on Arnessk. Refused to exact revenge when Grayza offered it."
Still felt it when he heard her name, that twitch of pleasure and disgust, mingling and twisting in his gut, his groin. Made him sick. Made him want.
"Thought it was a trick," he said, looking forward again. Turned too quickly and gave himself away. Stared back outside where it was safer. *In space, no one can see your guilt.* "I won't make that mistake again."
Scorpius edged closer and John straightened, his hand becoming more than just a light pressure on Winona's grip.
"Why not kill me now?"
Lips flattened against bared teeth, a soft whistle of drawn air. "I promised Aeryn. Not to harm you."
"She would forgive you for breaking that promise." Scorpius' voice came from too close. "No one on this ship would condemn you."
John turning smoothly, faced the hybrid, freed the pistol from its holster but kept it at his side. "Trying to push your luck?"
"I'm trying to make you see-"
"Reason?" He interrupted Scorpius with the business end of his pistol, raised suddenly in the half-breed's face.
"The truth."
"As you see it." He lowered Winona fractionally. "You need a new catch phrase."
Scorpius slowly raised his hands, a sign of surrender that might be convincing if his expression matched. He backed away. One step. Two. "I saw your face when I fell into the grave you dug." Voice sliding along the subtle edge of mockery. "You were sorry."
"Sorry I missed my chance."
"Not the chance you think." Scorpius turned to the door, offering his back. Took his time walking across the floor.
The pistol leveled out again, held steady in fingers that wanted to tremble. A shake he could feel at the shoulder, creeping steadily down his arm.
*Pull the trigger. Do it. Do it now.*
His finger tensed. Strained. Released.
The Peacekeeper outlaw passed out of the chamber and John lowered his unfired weapon. Snapped it back into the holster. There'd be other chances.
Scorpius was wrong. He wasn't sorry then.
He was sorry now.
*What was I thinking?*
It's all tormented space for him. What difference did a designation make? A rose by any other name still stood a snowballs chance in hell, to mix a metaphor or two.
He didn't hear the footsteps; Scorpius defied sound when he walked, but John was aware of the change. Like a drop in air pressure before a storm. The static charge as thunderclouds formed.
Fingers twitched at his hip, brushed the butt of his pistol. "What do you want?"
Scorpius came forward, paused beside him, not turning his head. Thoughtfully watching the swath of darkness outside Moya. "I hoped we were beyond that question."
"We're not beyond anything, Scorpy. Don't forget it."
"I forget nothing."
John moved from the center of the portal to the edge, putting distance between him and the Scarran half-breed, giving him a place to rest his shoulder. Studied the figure before the window. "You wore out your welcome. Ain't it time for you to go? Cut the apron strings?"
Chin lifted slightly, Scorpius clasped his hands before him. Stared straight ahead. "I suspect I wouldn't survive long on my own."
"Feed it to someone who cares. I don't give a damn what happens to you."
"Not entirely true." Scorpius turned, shoulders and head twisting, a piranha grin and precise eyes.
That look John hated, that made him feel he was missing something vitally important. Wouldn't know what it was until too late. "This a quiz? I'll take Know Your Enemies for a hundred, Alex."
"You refused to kill me on Arnessk. Refused to exact revenge when Grayza offered it."
Still felt it when he heard her name, that twitch of pleasure and disgust, mingling and twisting in his gut, his groin. Made him sick. Made him want.
"Thought it was a trick," he said, looking forward again. Turned too quickly and gave himself away. Stared back outside where it was safer. *In space, no one can see your guilt.* "I won't make that mistake again."
Scorpius edged closer and John straightened, his hand becoming more than just a light pressure on Winona's grip.
"Why not kill me now?"
Lips flattened against bared teeth, a soft whistle of drawn air. "I promised Aeryn. Not to harm you."
"She would forgive you for breaking that promise." Scorpius' voice came from too close. "No one on this ship would condemn you."
John turning smoothly, faced the hybrid, freed the pistol from its holster but kept it at his side. "Trying to push your luck?"
"I'm trying to make you see-"
"Reason?" He interrupted Scorpius with the business end of his pistol, raised suddenly in the half-breed's face.
"The truth."
"As you see it." He lowered Winona fractionally. "You need a new catch phrase."
Scorpius slowly raised his hands, a sign of surrender that might be convincing if his expression matched. He backed away. One step. Two. "I saw your face when I fell into the grave you dug." Voice sliding along the subtle edge of mockery. "You were sorry."
"Sorry I missed my chance."
"Not the chance you think." Scorpius turned to the door, offering his back. Took his time walking across the floor.
The pistol leveled out again, held steady in fingers that wanted to tremble. A shake he could feel at the shoulder, creeping steadily down his arm.
*Pull the trigger. Do it. Do it now.*
His finger tensed. Strained. Released.
The Peacekeeper outlaw passed out of the chamber and John lowered his unfired weapon. Snapped it back into the holster. There'd be other chances.
Scorpius was wrong. He wasn't sorry then.
He was sorry now.