The Space Between

Space is bright as it spills out in front of her. It shines in, illuminating the room and everything inside it.

They must have stumbled into some kind of star field over night and she revels in the light as it hits her face. Light should mean warmth, but this light is surrounded by the cool air from the vent shafts and it feels absolutely frelling perfect.

Stars scatter out before her, for as far as she can see, in every direction.

Red.

Purple.

Yellow.

A stark contrast to the darkness of space and the unending nothingness of that concept.

The terrace is quiet. The only sound Aeryn hears is her own regular breathing and she lets her eyes flutter shut, seeing the impression of stars behind the lids.

The medicinal herbs that Noranti had given her for the headache are making her feel groggy and aimless. Dizzy with apathy and some scrambled form of joy and she smiles for the sheer sake of working the muscles.

She's glad that she has already greeted her youngest son with kisses and hugs, welcoming embraces and laughter. She feels lightheaded now and she's not sure if she can stand, let alone follow his thousand metra an hour words as they spill from his giddy mouth.

He's settled in comfortably, working on a model and eating a Prevy biscuit for his morning meal, and she had needed to find a solitary place to reflect on what has happened over the past 48 arns.

However, the herbs are making that task of quiet reflection difficult at best.

A cool breeze from the air shafts lifts her hair from her shoulder as it sweeps up and around her. She breathes it in, letting it fill her insides, relishing the coolness when the memory of painful heat is still so fresh in her mind.

Aeryn hears the familiar sound of the door panel whirring open behind her, but she can't take her eyes off of the stars; so many colors and so many spots of light spreading out before her.

John roughly plops down beside her on the ground, his hips bumping against hers as he slides as close as he can get, his arm surrounding her back as he moves his hand to a position of support on the floor by her side.

"Well, it is so good to see you up, moving…and not trying to kick my ass," He smiles as he leans in to kiss her gently on the cheek.

His lips are warm and soft against her skin and she can't help but lean in to him. A familiar and welcome feeling of desire and hunger stirring inside of her.

She giggles. SHE giggles and shocks herself. The sound of giggling so foreign to her mouth and her voice it takes her by surprise and she hears John laugh besides her.

Her reactions to any kind of pain remedy are glaringly obvious. "Someone has been cozy with the happy pills this morning huh?"

"Noranti gave me something for my head, it wasn't much really. Just some herbs," She utters, the silly smile never leaving her face.

What the hezmana is wrong with you? You're acting like a frellnick.

"Hmm, I never would have guessed," He jokes. "Did they help?"

"I don't really feel anything, if you don't count the fact that I think I might be floating right now. So, if that is what you consider helping, I'm going to have to give you a very big yes on that one." She says looking at him, all serious.

It lasts for a split microt before she's laughing again, and her laughter must be contagious because John starts and he can't seem to stop either.

"We've got her back," Aeryn breaks through the laughter like the realization of what has just happened is finally hitting her, settling like a thick fog. Her emotions feel like a quick trip over mountains and valleys. Up and down, out of control.

Before she knows what's happening she's crying. "We got her back. She's back. One of your plans actually worked."

John smiles and wipes the tear from her cheek with the back of his hand. Slowly smoothing the moisture away and resting his fingers on her jaw.

"We got her back, and I got you back. It's finally over," He whispers in her ear.

She needs him.

She wants him, and she needs him.

She loves him like her frelling life depends on it. In fact, she's pretty much certain at this point that it does.

Aeryn turns and leans in to him heavily, quickly taking his lips with hers. She tastes him everywhere, his mouth, his chin, his cheeks, his eyelids. She needs to taste every bit of him.

She apparently awakens the same need in him the second they touch, and she can feel him in her hair. Breathing her in, John's tongue on her ear, on her jaw and she shudders against him as he holds her so tightly against his body.

They are alone. For the first time since they have gotten back they are both aware and alert and this isn't about slowness, or gentle desire. This is about need, and passion, urgency, and an unbridled necessity of having each other as close as physically possible.

"Pilot, can you shut off the comms for just a little while?" John asks in a gruff voice, impatient and slightly demanding.

Pilot must sense the strange tone in his voice and he responds quickly. "Yes Commander. Is there a problem?" he questions.

"No, no problem," heavy breathing, eyes locked on each other. "Just need a little bit of time here to work a few things out."

Relieve some tension, release some fluids. It's necessary. Really.

"Work some things out? Is that what we're calling it now?" Aeryn asks feeling giggly again.

"We can call it whatever the hell you want," John says moving towards her mouth again, his eyes dark and hard; a one track mind.

He doesn't capture it in time and the giggles spill out, which she can tell amuses and frustrates him.

Frell this. frell it.

She feels so good with him and she needs him now.

Aeryn roughly kisses him again. Biting at his lips, drawing warm blood from his skin and tasting it on her tongue.

"I'm sorry," She whispers between breaths.

"Don't be," he says licking at the small cut that she has left. A battle wound, a sign of an impassioned struggle.

"Don't," She urges stopping him from licking at it. She wipes the small wound with her finger slowly, feeling the warmth of his heated skin, and kisses him again, equally as hard and equally as fast.

Hands are everywhere. She pushes him back to the ground as he strips off her shirt and unzips her pants.

Heavy breathing, aching nerves.

John's careful not to bump or brush her forehead, the cut and bruise reminding him quickly of the injury.

"Are you okay? Are you sure you're ready for this?" Always concerned for her, always looking out for her.

"Stop John," Aeryn snaps in an almost frustrated voice, catching herself as his eyes grow confused.

She slows the pace slightly and rubs his cheek, smiling at him. "Stop talking, I'm fine."

The confusion is gone in a microt and he has her leathers off and his hands are touching her in all of the right places.

She feels crazy, like she's going to rip apart. After all these cycles he knows exactly where and how to touch her, how to push her right to the edge and how to make her fall right over it.

His hands are rough against her tender skin and the warmth and rhythm are insanely hard for her to resist. She can feel herself losing control and she pushes into him as he moves his fingers inside of her, palm rough against her, fingers moving.

She's grasping at his chest and she is completely gone; vulnerable his movements and he frelling knows it as he slows down slightly.

"Don't frell with me John," She growls between breaths, meeting his eyes as he laughs at the power he has over her right now.

Not a microt later he picks up again and before she knows what's happening her back is arched and she is over the edge. Aeryn clenches around his fingers and moves her hips against him, heavy, ragged breathing making her feel like she might just pass out right there.

He doesn't give her time for that though, he is so ready himself and he pulls her roughly down on top of him, capturing her lips in his teeth and moving his tongue against hers and it doesn't take her body long to begin to respond to everything he's doing again.

John's hands are on her breasts, rough and grasping, gently massaging her skin as he feels every inch of her. Those hands that feel so good, like familiar friends. Comforting and constant. Even after all this time there is no one that she wants more than him.

His breath is staggered and she knows that he needs to be inside of her now and she moves and guides him right to where she needs him most.

He fills her completely and she is ready again too as she begins to move against him.

Rough and rhythmic.

He is grasping her back and her hands are in his hair. They are face to face, can't possibly get any closer to each other but that doesn't stop them both from trying.

Aeryn guides his hand back down to where they are joined, knowing that with his help she will be ready when he is.

Consistant movement, inside and outside. All of her sensations are on overload, she can't think straight. Frell the drugs, this is all she needs.

He moans her name as he explodes inside of her, heat and heartbeat and she is clenching around him before she even knows what's happening. Her head back, his name on her tongue and his hair in her fists.

She completely and utterly loves him and she doesn't hesitate to say so.

"I love you too, so much," John huffs between staggered breaths and heartbeats. She can feel his heart beating against her chest as she lies on top of him and she smoothes his hair, kissing his lips and breathing him in as they slowly come down together.

They needed this time. It is so painfully evident and she finally feels complete.

Aeryn lays her head against his chest, looks out at the stars that are still shining in on the terrace and John slowly follows her gaze.

His hands are rubbing her back as their breathing evens out she knows that he sees what it is that holds her attention.

Stars, space, light and color. Aeryn.

The star, her star. They were in familiar territory and things seem like they've come full circle some how as he kisses the top of her head and she closes her eyes.

She finally feels truly at peace for the first time in nearly seven cycles.

- -

He saunters slowly down the bright, golden corridor of the ship, his ship, his home. The only home he has ever truly known. His hand skips and bounces over the warm surface of the bulkheads as he walks along. He loves this Leviathan, she's part of his family and he is as protective of the great creature as he is of his brother, and now his sister, again.

He hasn't seen her yet. Not since he watched her hanging limply in his father's arms back on the hot planet. With air that went down like thick sludge. Frelling terrible, he wouldn't forget that any time soon.

She had grown up, still a child, but not the baby he so fondly remembers. Not the baby that he hugs close to his face in the small, tattered photograph he carries in his sweaty palm.

His legs and arms are sore and bruised from the physicality of the ordeal, yet he feels stronger somehow. Like he's finally proven himself to his father and mother. He's finally proven his worth to himself. Maybe he is deserving of his namesake after all.

D'Argo.

He takes a deep breath, swelling with a slight bit of boyish pride at the bravery and urgency of the situation as he swipes several pieces of his lose hair out of his eyes.

D'Argo Sun Crichton, finally ready to take on the universe.

He stops short, just a few steps from his sister's door. She has been locked in her quarters since they had returned.

The girl is angry, and scared, and he doesn't frelling blame her for a microt. But at the same time he desperately wants to see her up close, talk to her, see if she remembers him. Maybe he could help her understand these frelled up circumstances.

Or maybe not.

He isn't really sure he understands them himself. It felt, some days, that the universe was out to get his family. One thing after another. Perhaps they were jinxed.

But, on the other hand, all of these cycles later, after a dren-load of insanity, the Sun-Crichton's kept going. Kept surviving, and hell, here they are.

Maybe there is a bit of luck in that after all.

He can hear her talking to herself. Maybe she's singing? Her voice is melodic, reminiscent of something he's heard before. It's soothing, and soft, much different than his mothers and yet the same somehow.

D'Argo peaks his head around the door panel, through the grating, to get a good look at her.

She's tall, her hair is different, and he has to look back down at the picture in his hands to make sure he is really looking at the same girl. But once he sees the small face of the blonde haired baby and compares it to the girl standing in the room before him, he knows that he is. Blue eyes and Sandy hair; she looks like their father and she is beautiful.

She must hear his boots scuff the floor outside of her confines because she is immediately on edge. Before D'Argo knows what's happened she is at the door, small hands clasped around the grating, peering as far as she can to catch sight of the presence outside of her prison.

Some frelling spy you are.

"Who the frell are you?" his sister exclaims when she catches his skittish gaze.

Ah, she is just like their mother. He can deal with her, he is confident of it now.

He jams his hands quickly into his pockets, a slight blush creeping up his neck to warm his face.

Damn, is it hot in here?

He stutters stupidly, "Ahh…Umm…I'm D'Argo."

Great, that's just great frellnick. She's gonna think you're crazy. Hell, she probably thinks you're all crazy at this point.

"D'Argo. Should that mean something to me? Because it doesn't."

But he can tell by the slight sparkle of recognition in her blue eyes that it does.

He steps up to the grated doors placing his hands around it, just above hers even though he towers a good three heads taller than her.

"I'm your brother," It's deep and confident, as certain as he can make it. He's gotta make sure that she knows the order of power around here. He was the first and he is the oldest.

"Frell you," Taly spits.

His sister has a mouth like a Zenetian Pirate, but he likes her spunk.

"No, I'm serious," D'Argo replies working his best and most charming smile. All teeth and slight dimples.

"I'm busy, do you mind?" She states shortly as she turns back to her bunk.

"Planning your escape?" He will get something out of her.

"What's it to you?"

A challenge.

"Pilot?" D'Argo calls shifting his attention for a microt. "Can you let me in to Taly's quarters?"

The door panel whirs open in front of him as the girl sits roughly on the bunk and he steps in slowly as it closes behind him.

"Thanks buddy," he drawls, turning to face her.

"You're welcome D'Argo," Pilot responds through his comms.

This gets her attention.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Pilot, he controls Moya," D'Argo says sitting on the ground across from her.

"Leviathans actually need the Pilot to control things?" she asks.

He chuckles slightly, intentionally showing his amusement at her apparent incompetence.

"Didn't they teach you anything at Peacekeeper kiddie school?" he questions with a smirk.

That garners him an angry glare and a stiff shift in posture.

Taly crosses her arms in defiance. "What the frell do you know about it?" she demands.

"Well, obviously a helluva lot more than you, and that's gotta say something."

She turns her back to him. Maybe this isn't the best tactic after all.

D'argo sighs with frustration. This is not going at all as he'd planned. He gets up to walk closer and take a position directly in front of her bunk. He extends his hand, offering her a form of greeting that his father used all the time.

"Let me try this again. I'm your brother, D'Argo. It's been a long time Talyse'un."

She looks at his hand with a puzzled expression, wary of his changed demeanor.

"What?" she asks.

Well, this is a start; at least she isn't flipping him over and kicking his ass.

D'Argo reaches down, grasps her smaller hand in his, and shakes it firmly up and down. "It's just a greeting, you know, hello, how you doing?"

Another look revealing hard blue eyes that are probably questioning his sanity.

"It's an Earth thing. Ask Dad sometime." He smiles. "Can I sit?"

"Don't count either of those things," she huffs, never meeting his eyes.

D'Argo sighs, ignoring her response, and sits on the floor directly in front of her as he reaches up and hands her the ragged picture.

Taly eyes the object with disgust. "What is this?"

"It's a photograph. It's you and I. When you were little, before you were...taken," he mutters. He's done with joking. He wants her to know what this means to their family. How much they want her here.

"Oh, it's a photograph? Really, I had no idea," She sneers sarcastically.

Her eyes soften, betraying her hard demeanor, as she looks at the picture. The small blonde haired girl a stark contrast to her brother's dark hair and lanky body. He is holding her tight in the in the photograph, practically smashing her cheek against his own. It was taken on some planet, someplace where there was light and a breeze. He can see her smile slightly as she stares at it microt after microt. She looks down and buries her mouth in the crook of her arm to hide the reaction, but he can see it.

"This is me? Me and you?"

Now, now maybe he's on to something.

"It sure is. I used to take care of you. Anybody tried to get to you; they'd have to kick my ass first," he answers seriously.

"Well, I'm sure that wouldn't have been too hard," she mumbles as she judges his small, boyish form in the picture.

"Nah, probably not," D'Argo laughs. "But, it's a different story now. And they'd still have to kick my ass to get to you."

Taly snaps at the assumption: "I don't need you to protect me. I'm not a baby," The fire is immediate behind the blue in her eyes. "Besides, I don't intend to be here long enough for you to have to do anything of the sort."

"I wouldn't place a bet on that. Do you know how long we've been looking for you? Mom and Dad, they never stopped."

She is silent, no response.

D'Argo sighs.

"Day after day, cycle after cycle. None of us ever stopped thinking about you, looking for you. They love you. You've gotta see that." He's pleading now and he doesn't care.

"Are you out of your frelling mind?" Taly asks, eyeing him with a look of amazement. "I don't have a family."

D'Argo leans back on his hands.

"I don't have a family. You're not my family. I don't even know you." It comes out fast, like rapid fire pulse blasts. "I have a regiment and a unit and a duty and you can't keep me here."

"Hey, you know what? You do have a duty, and it's here. WE need you. Frell those Peacekeeper bastards!"

He's angry. Why is she being so thick headed?

Before D'Argo knows what's hit him, she's off the bunk and on top of him, swift punch to his lip and he's bleeding already. Damn, she was fast and that frelling hurt. But he quickly gains the advantage and has her small wrists clasped firmly in his grip, holding tight, attempting to keep those little weapons away from his face.

"You are the bastards. You took me from my home," she accuses breathlessly, emotion springing to her voice where there wasn't any before.

Sadness, fear, regret for what might have been? Perhaps a combination of it all he thinks, as the small stream of warm blood trickles down his chin.

"You obviously didn't try very hard to keep me, and then you come waltzing in and take me back! Who said I wanted to go with you!" The girl is yelling now, and he doesn't feel the need to soften his response.

"You know what? You're right. You're frelling right! It's not fair. None of it is fair and I don't blame you for being pissed off. I don't blame you for hating the universe. Because you know what? It frelled us all!" D'argo yells, still holding on firmly to her wrists. "You were taken! We lost you! How is any of it frelling fair?"

Taly calms down, perhaps seeing it from their side for the first time. Her arms go lax in his grip and he slowly lets go of her wrists realizing the threat is most likely gone for now. He scoots back, away from her, though still facing her.

"I'm sorry." He mutters completely sincere in his sympathy. "I'm sorry that all of this happened to you. But you're here now, and we want you here. They want you here, more than anything. You've gotta believe me."

There's a rattle outside the door, in the corridor, the sound of something hitting the ground.

D'argo quickly jumps up to see what's going on beyond their frame of vision and he spots the blonde hair of their brother trying to hide behind a bulkhead to the right.

"Jack, go away you little drannit," he calls sternly over his shoulder as he walks back to sit down.

He laughs, pointing his thumb towards the door. "Your little brother, he's a hell of an eaves dropper. Watch out for him."

"No, I think I can come in and talk to you too," Jack snits while walking in front of the door. He's gawking at the girl and he doesn't even try to hide it.

Little frellnick.

"GO away, seriously. Go find something to break," D'argo's patience is wearing thin. The kid is everywhere he is, all the frelling time.

"Are you gonna make me?" Jack challenges as he jerks his tongue out in his older brother's direction.

That's it, he's dead.

D'Argo jumps up and slams his hands into the door panel, which draws nothing short of a girly shriek from their brother as he runs off down the corridor as quickly as he can.

He turns back around in time to catch a slight smile on his sister's face and he wanders back over to sit in front of her.

She reaches her hand out to give him back the old photograph, but he shakes his head, denying the offering.

"It's yours now. I've been keeping it; waiting for this day. Now I want you to have it."

Taly fingers the rough corners of the photograph and nods, her face remaining blank as she carefully tries to hide her reaction to the gesture.

Perhaps all wasn't lost. Perhaps the universe hadn't frelled them as badly as he thought that it had.