The Night In (PG-15)

Companion piece to The Night Out. Setting, about 4-5 decades post PKW.

Warnings: Adult themes and bad language and angst.

Disclaimer: FS doesn't belong to me, I'm just borrowing it. Similarly with the lyrics borrowed from Robert Cray and Dr Hook. No money is being made either way and no disrespect is intended.

Thanks: To Vinegardog for beta-ing. To Iscascaper for asking for John's POV.

Wordcount: 1532

The Night In (PG-15)

"It's Wednesday night, my woman's out, once again I'm home alone.…." John found himself humming. He had no idea if it was Wednesday or not, but had long since worked out that a night in alone sure could lead to some unhealthy introspection. Knowing it didn't stop it from happening, though.

Some days, the good days, John felt like he was a young man trapped in an old man's body. Those days were the easiest, because then he could imagine that, with the right medicine, everything might be alright. On the bad days his thoughts betrayed every year of the venerable old age that he had achieved. On those days he could be difficult, if not downright curmudgeonly. And, of course, he would contemplate that sex was nothing more than a distant memory, something to replay fondly, or not, in his mind's eye as he drifted off into one of his many naps, rather than something he might actually participate in.

There was one thought that he could not escape: it was not that he had simply lost interest in his partner. Rather his mind and body had lost the interest in and ability to recreate under any circumstances. Aeryn was a good-looking woman, appearing to be not a day over 35, in human terms. John could well appreciate that she was still attractive by any measure. From his distant memories John could just about recall that it would be darned unusual for a human woman of that age to have a sculpted six-pack. If anyone could have aroused him, it would have been her. And Aeryn was still keen on sex, of that he was sure. But for his part, the flesh was weak and the mind was largely uninterested.

He still adored Aeryn, still enjoyed her company, still ached when they were apart. But sex had largely become a chore. Actually, he thought, in recent cyclesit had become something he almost dreaded. The thought of her, young and vigorous, with him, old and decrepit, turned his stomach slightly. Combined with this, Aeryn had always liked her recreation to be very athletic energetic. Even if he had had the energy to keep up with her, old bones were brittle. These days, no matter what medication John took, something big was most definitely missing from their relationship.

'~'

"When you're in love with a beautiful woman, you know it's hard…" a voice sang in his mind. John bit back a bitter laugh. If only….

John had found out about Aeryn's extra-curricular activities about six monens previously. He'd had his suspicions before that, of course, but had convinced himself it was just his natural jealousy talking. But the confrontation in the bar had been impossible to ignore.

One of Aeryn's escapades, a young Sebacean with a sneer on his lips and a glint of cruelty in his eye, had recognized John in a space station hostelry and had made a point of coming up to him and rubbing his face in it. At length and in excruciating detail.

Bastard.

It had seemed that it wasn't enough just for the young cock to have frelled another man's wife, that particular gentleman seemed to revel in the opportunity to crow about it. John was no spring chicken:he was well aware that there were all sorts of guys in the Universe, and not all of them were nice. If he'd been a few decades younger, he'd have punched the little shit, but at his age, John knew full well that such a course of action would not have ended well for him. So he sucked it up and, face red with anger and embarrassment, made his excuses and left.

After that confrontation John had pondered long and hard about what he should do about the man's claims and his own suspicions. Like a good rocket scientist, he had weighed up and analysed all the evidence, options and possibilities in his head. Then he had gone back over things, trying to get to the root of why they were where they exercise had not left him in a happy place.

By human standards Aeryn was still young. She had needs, needs which he was only too aware that he could not hope to fulfil. John knew that in the culturein which she had been raised, sex was regarded as just a biological function, like eating or sleeping, and long-term relationships were frowned upon. She had travelled a long way from her life as a Peacekeeper, of course, but he knew that ideas imprinted in childhood were the hardest to leave behind.

As time passed, John began to feel that it was his fault that he had grown so old and had placed her in such a difficult position. The more John thought about it, the more guilt he felt that he could no longer give her what she needed.

One thing he could seek comfort in though: she had chosen to remain with him, rather than leave for a younger, more vital partner.

Thus he had come to understand her infidelity, almost welcome it. She had done what she needed to, but she had not left him. Not yet, anyhow. She had not rubbed his face in it, either – it had taken an arrogant stranger to do that. When all was said and done, there was enough evidence to hope that she still loved him. She had loved him once, of that he was sure.

And he loved her. She was his One Thing. John knew his time in this life was growing short. He could risk throwing away spending his last few days with the love of his life, or he could take what he had, which was all he could cope with anyway, and be grateful.

But he had to know.

'~'

What do you say to your wife of four and a half decades, the mother of your children, when she comes back home after seeing another man?

What do you say if you still love her? Love her more than anything else, and are desperate not to drive her away or let her drift away?

"Hey, babe," John greeted Aeryn from under the sheets, giving her the chance to speak whatever was on her mind. No pressure. He flicked on his bedside light. It provided just enough illumination for him to see her by.

"Hey," Aeryn replied. It was clear she was not going to add anything to that.

"Hey," he responded, watching as she undressed by the faint night light. His frustration and unease grew as she turned slightly so that he could not see her face, even in the dim light of their bedchamber. She was still a master at hiding her emotions, but he was still a master at reading them, if only she would allow him the chance. She was not making it easy, not that he could blame her. Or maybe she was trying to make things easier, by trying to keep things from him? Without answering, she slipped under the sheets alongside him. Her expression was still obscured and she had broken the rules of their game by not responding. John was unsure as to what to do now.

The silence drifted on for a few microts as Aeryn fidgeted to get comfortable. When it was clear she would not answer, John turned out the light and spoke again, desperate to connect, to reassure both of them that everything was OK.

"You get done what you needed to get done?" he whispered. He peered at her, trying to gauge her reaction, but it was no use. It was too dark and his eyes were too old.

"Yes," she replied at last. There was no more clue as to how she was feeling in her words, or, he corrected himself, word. Nor was there any clue in her tone of voice. John felt at his wits' end.

"Good." He said, not knowing what else to say. At least he could be grateful, if for nothing else, that she had once again returned to him. There was a long silence. He couldn't leave things this way between them. He wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if he left things like this. The not knowing how she might feel about their future was too painful. He tentatively edged his hand across the bed until he found hers. Once he had found it, he gripped it tightly. She did not pull away, which was something, at least. But still she did not speak. John could stand it no more.

"Love you," he said at last, venturing his best card. His voice was quiet and quavering, gripped with fear as to how she might respond.

"Love you too," he heard her whisper, her tone at last betraying her hurt, her words confessing her love. He knew that she meant those words with all of her heart and as such it was enough for him. It was more than enough. It was everything.

With a lump in his throat and hope in his heart, John held on to her hand for all he was worth.

The end