Originally posted 10/18/03Well, really, I was trying to write
happy Locket fic....not an easy task!
I was really frustrated with the reception to this fic, because although it was enthusiastic, and I suppose it
is a sweet story -- I felt like everyone missed the metaphor completely.....
But I love this story. It takes place in Scrubschick's "May-December" universe, and John and Aeryn are together, some 10 cycles after John got stranded.
Rating: PG
Setting: The Locket
Spoilers: Through The Locket
Disclaimer: Not my universe, not my characters, no disrespect intended -- and I love them to pieces!
Circles
Aeryn woke as Crichton was tiptoeing out the bedroom door in the light of the spring dawn. "John?" she called. It was a rest day, and they would normally sleep in.
He stopped in the doorway and turned to face her. "Hey, Babe!" he smiled. "I've got something to do before breakfast. Won't be long," he added.
"All right," she told him, smiling herself. "But if you get wrapped up in something, just remember I'm likely to burn the mush."
"Well, I've gotten pretty good at choking down just about anything, now haven't I?" he teased, and ducked out of the room.
She let him go with a grin at his departing back, and sat up, swinging her feet over the side of the bed. Today, she thought. Whatever he's been up to, he's going to show me today.
As she went through her morning routine, she let her thoughts ramble to less happy times.
The last harvest cycle, the tenth since Crichton had gotten stranded on this planet, the eighth since they'd been together, had been very hard on him, and on her. Over time the sun and the wind had toughened his skin, and his hair was lighter than it had been when he arrived, bleached by the sun, with a smattering of gray brought by the years. Their Sebacean neighbors hadn't changed at all in that relatively short period, and she wondered if that was part of the problem.
Oh, he'd labored long and hard in the fields all season, helped the neighbors when they needed it, did everything that was expected, and necessary, in their small farming community. But he withdrew into himself, stared off into nowhere, avoided company, even hers....
Replies to questions were monosyllabic, conversations non-existent.
His anger, and his grief at being trapped in this tiny universe, at having lost the only life he ever wanted, was palpable.
Even Ennixx's tiny daughter couldn't coax a smile.
And Aeryn tried to tell her granddaughter that it was just the way of those of them from the outside, no one's fault....
But it hurt her that he hurt, and she felt guilty, more guilty than she had at any time since he'd been stranded, because if she'd only managed to explain it better, convince him not to follow her, he wouldn't be here. It was she who'd brought him here, all the while trying to spare him her fate....
And goddess help her, she was glad he was here. Her world had come alive when he became a part of it again, and she had precious little to offer him in return, an old woman, set in her ways, though he never, ever complained, not to her. What he thought in his heart, she didn't know.
She tried to be patient, tried not to snap, because she remembered the woman she'd been, all those cycles ago, staring out where the stars should be and railing against the fates. And if he didn't talk, didn't communicate, neither was he cruel, or hurtful.
But it got so bad that one day she finally summoned her courage and came up behind him where he sat, brooding, and asked, "Would it be better if you had a proper wife?"
When there was no answer, she said, "A family?"
"Children?" she asked finally, her desperation coming through in the way her voice quavered on that single word.
And he'd turned around in his chair then, looked at her with an intensity that was almost a blow and said quietly, "Don't ever say that again."
And he'd pulled her into his lap and kissed her, hard, and made love to her right there in the front room, and she'd accepted that he meant to stay with her, that she was a comfort to him in some way she didn't understand, despite her failings.
So she prayed to the goddess that he'd find a way to live with his regrets.
And then one day, in late autumn, after the harvest was in, they'd been standing side by side on the front porch, watching a rainstorm that had come up unexpectedly. Thunder rolled, and there was lightning in the distance, and the earthy smell of falling rain. A narrow stream of water rushed by the house, carrying dead leaves and other debris along with it, and she noticed when it caught John's attention. He bit his lip, and looked towards the barn, and murmured, "I wonder...."
"Wonder what?" she asked, but he was already heading off to the barn heedless of the water pouring from the skies.
And when he came back, he had an air of suppressed excitement that she hadn't seen in so long that she didn't care
what he'd been doing, though she asked.
"It's a surprise," was all he'd say, but it was enough to lift the burden from her heart.
After that, he spent part of nearly every short winter day in the barn. She pretended not to notice when he came back whistling, smelling of sawdust, and sweat, and later of some kind of sealant, or maybe paint. If she needed to go to the barn, she never once went into the work area. Let him keep his secrets.
It was enough that he was, if not happy, at least content.
And last night, he'd been so wound up he couldn't sleep. His excitement communicated itself to her, and they'd both been awake, off and on. He'd reached for her in the middle of the night, pulled her on top of him, running his hands over her body, fingers through her hair, whispering for her to sleep -- as if he hadn't been distracting....
She smiled at the memory.
Breakfast was ready when he returned, blue eyes shining. She chided him for his muddy boots, and he laughed and said exactly what she said when he complained at her for the same reason. "It'll sweep right up when it's dry."
"Fine," she said, burying a smile. She passed him the nexxa berries to put on his cereal. "Eat."
And eat he did, sneaking glances at her face all through the meal.
It was all she could do not to laugh.
When they'd finished eating, he collected the dishes, shoved them in the sink, and said, "I'll do 'em later. I have something to show you."
"I never would have guessed," she said dryly, but got up and headed expectantly towards the door.
"Wait, wait," he said, rushing up behind her.
She stopped and looked at him. "What?"
He pulled out a piece of cloth and said, "Let me put this on you."
She frowned at him, puzzled, and said, "What are you talking about?"
"We're going to do this right. It's a blindfold. For the surprise."
He was fahrbot, obviously, but his enthusiasm was contagious, and she let him tie the strip of cloth over her eyes and guide her down the back steps into the outdoors.
John held her hand as they walked, slowly, in deference to the uneven ground, and the fact that she couldn't see. "I'm going to break my neck, you know," she told him.
"Nope. I'm your seeing eye dog here. Just trust me."
She could tell when they neared the barn, and she slowed down, expecting that that was where they were headed, but he only said, "Keep going."
Now, that surprised her. What the frell could he possibly want to show her
outside?
They were somewhere near the pond when he finally told her to stop. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her body so it was facing the direction he wanted. "Close your eyes," he said.
"What? My eyes are already covered."
"Just a little longer, Babe. Just go with me on this."
And his voice was so happy, and so full of expectation, that she gave up trying to understand, and simply did as he asked. "All right," she told him with a smile. "They're closed. Now, what's this all about, hmmm?"
She could feel his fingers at the back of her head, working the knot, and then the cloth fell away, and she could feel the cool breeze on her face.
"Okay," he said, stepping to the side of her. "Open your eyes."
For a moment, she hesitated. She truly had no expectations of what might have given him purpose again, it had been enough that he'd found it. She fervently hoped her reaction wasn't going to disappoint him.
She opened her eyes and blinked in the sunshine.
A few motras in front of her, bobbing in the pond, was a shiny white boat. A rowboat, she thought it was called. There were two wooden benches she imagined were seats, and a pair of oars. She had no idea what had possessed him to build it, but even from where she was standing, she could see it was beautifully crafted. All the love in his heart had been poured into it, and it took her breath away.
She looked at his beaming face with admiration shining in her eyes, and said, "You realize that pond is barely big enough to
hold a boat...."
And he threw back his head and laughed. "I know that, woman," he smirked. "But this was as far as Khyfan and I could drag it this morning! We'll get a transport and take it to Keef Lake when we have a few days. Now, quit carping and come here!"
He scooped her up and carried her over to the boat, depositing her in the rear seat with her clothing only slightly wet from trailing in the water, leaving her laughing. He managed to clamber into the boat without dumping them both in the pond, and settled himself on the seat opposite her.
He used one oar to push them a little ways from shore, then put both oars across his lap and settled his hands on top of them. "So," he said looking up into her face, "do you like her?"
"She's beautiful," Aeryn told him honestly, running her hand over the edge nearest her. "I don't think I've ever been in a boat. There was never any reason."
He took a deep breath and looked away across the water and then back at her. His smile was just a little wistful when he said, "My dad used to take me fishing in a boat just like this. Well, the wood was different, but I think it's close in density, and I think I got the design right."
Remembering how he'd cared for every detail of his module, she said softly, "I'm sure you remembered it perfectly."
He sniffed briefly as the emotion of the moment caught up with him. He rubbed his thumb across his nose and abruptly changed the subject. "Guess what her name is!"
She was never good at guessing games, and she looked at him blankly. "I don't know. What?"
He took pity on her and told her the answer without making her guess. "Moya." His voice was almost a whisper.
"Moya."
"Yep."
Well, she either had to laugh, or cry, so she threw her head back and laughed. "Row!" she commanded.
"What?"
"Well, Moya never stayed in one place very long, now did she? So row!" She pointed out towards the middle of the pond.
John saluted and said, "Your wish is my command," and settled the oars into their fittings. He shifted his grip and began to pull them through the water. The boat started to move awkwardly, and he apologized, saying, "I haven't done this in a long time."
But even though she found the gentle rocking of the boat a little disconcerting, she gave him a wide smile. "It doesn't matter. The boat is moving."
"So it is," he smiled. After a few moments where the only sound was of the oars cutting through the water, John said softly, "It doesn't matter if it's only in circles."
Aeryn shook her head in rueful agreement. "Not when circles are all that you have," she told him.
"Well, just wait till I get you on Keef Lake," he promised, and they rowed on the pond, laughing, for the better part of an arn before John beached the boat and they headed back to the house together hand in hand.
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