The Gift (NC-17)

[shipsister]

This was originally posted at Kansas on May 4, 2003. It's continued in the replies.

Greetings!

Setting: Shortly before Mental As Anything
Spoilers: Up to MAA; slightly for MAA
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Wish they were, but they're not.
Notes: This fic is the reason I didn't write a sequel to my earlier fic, Holding On. While I appreciated the requests, I had already thought of this one, and it covers much of the same ground as a sequel would have, but with a slightly different premise.

As always, many thanks to my beautiful betas, the usual gang of suspects. Everyone in the group contributed to making this a better fic than it would have been otherwise. I'm so grateful, and so blessed!

Special thanks go to Atana_Mirtai and Scrubschick, for letting me rely explicitly on fics of theirs. I took Aeryn's state of mind on the false earth from Atana's Tension, and Scrubs's Shopping With Aliens supplies what happened on their trip to the mall. While it's not necessary to read either fic in order to understand this one, I consider both fics canon and urge you to treat yourself and read them if you haven't already.

Hope you enjoy it, and remember, fic writers need feedback like Rygel needs KitKats! Please let me know what you think!

sis
Scrubschick's Psychic Smut Twin
Fluffy Bunny
Ship Happens!



The Gift                           


He wanted her.

Although "want" seemed like such a wan, weak, wanting word to use when describing the desire he struggled against. It was more than physical, more than carnal; his need for her was visceral, a part of him, as basic to his existence as his need for food and water.

And yet he forced himself to deny it. As he walked Moya's corridors, day after day repairing systems, performing routine maintenance, troubleshooting to avoid future problems, he managed to bury his all encompassing need beneath the ruse of their break-up; and when they were able to steal a few microts to be together, he listened to the rational part of his mind that told him this wasn't the time, that it would be a foolish risk. Surely making love now would make it so much harder for them to hide their true feelings from the others, to maintain the facade.

So he continued the pretense he had perfected over the cycles. He repressed. He hid from his own heart the need to be one with her. And tried very hard not to think about how he'd managed to get to a point where Aeryn Sun not only loved, but wanted him, and he was saying no.
 
Especially since once he'd calmed down, after challenging her to be straight with him, he couldn't stop thinking about her. But when the reality game had opened his eyes to the likelihood that Scorpy was spying on them, he'd reluctantly realized that he'd have to distance himself from her, to protect her, the rest of the crew, hell, the whole damned galaxy. And he'd needed Granny's drug to dull the self-inflicted pain of their separation, to stop himself from listening to her explanations, to keep himself from forgiving her. To make her believe there was no hope for them.

But she'd had other plans.

First, when they were on earth. Christmas Eve. She'd stood there crying in front of him, demanding that he tell her what he wanted, how he really felt. That he be straight with her. Her tears had torn at his heart, ripping it open. He was only seconds away from taking her in his arms, telling her of course he wanted her to stay; there was nothing he wanted more than for her to be on earth, and be with him. But then the critter had descended on them and everything was frelled - again.

Next, after they'd returned to Moya and she'd found out about the lakka. He'd known if she ever found out she'd be pretty pissed, and he was right. But he had to admit, it had given him a quiet thrill, the way she had confronted him, fought against his drug enabled separation. Fought until he was forced to tell her the truth; truth that freed their hearts, even if secrecy still bound their actions.

So it was that now, as John walked to his quarters after his shift in command, he wondered for the zillionth time if his plans for tonight were a mistake. If tomorrow's trip was just a flimsy excuse allowing him to do what he'd wanted to do all along. Tomorrow, he, D'Argo and Rygel would head out with Scorpius for what Scorpy called "mental discipline training." Aeryn and the girls would travel to a commerce center to look for a device that would give Moya the ability to disguise herself from other ships. They would only be apart a couple of solar days, but the prospect of being separated from Aeryn again unnerved him. It started a gnawing in the pit of his stomach that quickly wore away his ability to repress his desire, left him knowing only that he had to be with her if he was going to survive being apart from her. His need to consummate their reunion overwhelmed all of his intricately constructed rationales.

With Pilot's help, John had planned carefully to keep their rendezvous a secret. They would meet in the middle of the sleep cycle, greatly lessening the chances that anyone would come looking for them. Pilot had directed him to a section of the neural cluster where detection was almost impossible, even if someone were looking. They would leave their comms in their quarters. If someone tried to comm one of them, Pilot would disrupt the transmission and send them a signal through the DRDs. The DRDs would also stand guard at a discrete distance, ready to sound a warning in the unlikely circumstance that someone should stumble upon them.

John had been preparing the small chamber for the last few nights, when everyone else was asleep. He'd thought carefully about what he could do to show her how much he valued what was happening between them. He was certain Aeryn wouldn't care about any romantic touches, but he was just as certain she would notice and appreciate his efforts. So he had taken a few candles his sister Olivia had insisted he bring from earth, the CD player Aeryn had given him, and a few of his favorite jazz CDs. He'd even improvised a cooler and stashed a few bottles of chelnac juice, Aeryn's favorite, along with some palnab berries, which had always reminded him of grapes. They would only be together a few arns, and he needed everything to be . . . perfect.

Waiting for their appointed meeting time, he lay down on his bed in his quarters. He considered catching a nap, so he'd be well rested, but knew he was so tied up in knots of anticipation he couldn't sleep if he took a bucket full of sominex. After a quarter arn he got up, changed from his leathers into his more comfortable jeans, grabbed a comforter he'd brought from earth, one of Moya's golden sheets, and a couple of pillows, and headed for the neural cluster. There was still over an arn before she was scheduled to join him there, but he half suspected that she would be restless, too, and arrive early, so the sooner everything was ready, the better.

As he made his way down to the neural cluster, he remembered her reaction when he told her of his idea a few days ago, once everyone's travel plans were set. Part of him had been afraid that she'd be the rational, strong one and would veto his idea as a foolish indulgence, an unreasonable risk. But she had looked into his eyes and slowly smiled at him, nodding her agreement, chasing away any lingering anxiety with her kiss. God, he loved her.

When he reached the designated chamber in the neural cluster, he made the final preparations. He spread the sheet and comforter over the double layer of mats he'd found in the upper tiers and had arranged in the center of the chamber. After a few microts the candles were in position, CD player loaded, pillows plumped, juice chilled, fruit set out so as not to be too cold. Now all he had to do was wait.

He sat down on the floor and scooted back against the warmth of Moya. He had wanted this for so long, dreamt of it so many times. Being with her - again. Closing his eyes, he resisted sleep, but he couldn't resist remembering a safe house, a rain storm, earth that was but was not earth over three cycles ago, and the first time his fantasy of loving Aeryn Sun became a reality.

Sitting beside her at the foot of the bed, encouraged by her willing response to his advances, he'd gathered her in his arms, leaning over until they both lay on the bed, as he nuzzled her hair, her ear, her neck. Beneath her willingness he could feel her tension, sense her fear, but was uncertain about their source. He'd known enough even then not to mention it.

Instead, he had simply taken his time, concentrated on relaxing her, gently reassuring her with his touch that there was nothing to fear with him. Slowly, hands only at first, he caressed, massaged, built heat as he'd discovered the right places.

Bit by bit she'd relaxed and had begun to softly stroke his body in return. But when he'd risked asking her what she liked, what she wanted him to do, panic swept across her face and she'd tensed again. He'd realized then that she had never been asked that before, that this was as new to her as if it were her first time.

So he'd slowed down again, murmured some flip remark about her finally letting him be in the pilot's seat, and had been rewarded by the ghost of a smile. She'd relaxed more quickly then, and when he'd added mouth and tongue to touch, her answering passion and raw need had almost made him lose control. But he hadn't. And their lovemaking had felt so excruciatingly right, that when her release finally spurred his own, the feeling of completeness frightened him a little. It had never felt that right before, not even with Alex. He didn't realize then how profoundly their joining had affected him. He had blamed his subsequent failure to openly pursue a real relationship with her on her fear. He realized now that he'd been afraid, too. Afraid of a woman who could touch the center of his being without even trying; without even knowing that she'd done so.

John had held the memory of that night close to his heart. Even when things between them seemed at a standstill, some part of him continued to hope that one day he would experience that heaven again. Once he'd finally been able to hold his fear at bay, and admit to himself that he loved Aeryn, he had been willing to wait. Willing to allow her whatever space she needed to grow into the woman who could acknowledge and share her love for him. And she'd done that, just in time for the neural clone to kill her. Then Zhaan's ultimate sacrifice to bring her back left Aeryn running scared, again. Yes, she loved him, but they could not have a relationship. Too dangerous; too much risk. He'd figured it was still just a matter of time; she was spooked, she'd come around. And she did, but by then he'd been twinned. The other guy was in the right place at the right time and got the trip to heaven, not him. Never him.

Until now. Now she not only loved him, but wanted him; wanted not to be just his 'good friend' but to be his partner, in all things. She had shown him that, with her quiet persistence over the last monens. He'd seen how she'd tried to find a way to talk to him, to make things right between them, even as he was trying as hard as he could to push her away. And then when she pushed back, her refusal to quietly disappear from his life had shown him that she was ready to fight for them, if necessary. Because of that, he could put aside the past pain, the unanswered questions. He could simply accept how much she'd changed since leaving, even if he didn't completely understand it. Every choice she'd made since his challenge convinced him that she had no intention of leaving him again, at least not of her own free will. That was enough for now; he could wait on everything else.

His musings ended as he heard her steady steps approaching, confirming his earlier suspicion; she was at least a quarter arn early. He stood, his nervous anticipation refusing him the comfort of remaining seated. Quickly lighting the candles, he checked the room one last time to make sure everything was in place.

When she entered the chamber, his breath caught, as he was startled yet again by her beauty. Her gray-blue eyes sparkled, her creamy skin glowed, and her silky hair seemed to shine, even in the low light of the chamber. My shining star, he thought. He promised himself never to take her for granted; to make it his business to rediscover her beauty constantly.

She was wearing work out clothes, although he didn't remember seeing the long sleeved navy blue T-shirt and gray sweatpants before. She must have gotten them on earth, he decided. He guessed that if she met someone in the corridor, exercise was going to be her cover story.

He returned the smile she graced him with, capturing her in his embrace. Wishing he had Pip's ability to slow down time, he nuzzled her hair, kissed her forehead. He wanted this to last, and he wanted to remember each microt; every gaze, caress, flavor, moan, scent; everything.

"Hey, baby," he whispered in her ear, kissing it before making his way down to her neck.

She laughed, her amusement growing as he gave her a puzzled look.

"What's so funny?" he asked, speaking softly, his voice now barely above a whisper.

"Nothing new," she responded, lightly kissing his lips, causing his heart to flutter. "Pilot said there was no need to whisper here; we can speak normally, we won't be detected."

"I'm not afraid of being overheard," he said, still speaking softly, resting his forehead on hers. "I'm trying to create a mood here, babe; work with me." He gave her one of his silly grins, and was rewarded as she laughed again, as if all of her cares had disappeared once he took her into his arms.

This reality was almost more than he could take in. Aeryn in his arms, laughing, happy, showing him with every look, caress, gesture, how much she loved him, needed him, wanted him. It was a new sensation, receiving her love, freely given. He liked it. But he was afraid to really believe it; afraid he might jinx it somehow. He wasn't used to getting what he wanted when it came to her. Maybe after tonight he could finally relax and accept that this was the reality that was meant to be.

He motioned for her to sit down on his improvised bed, then offered her some juice.

"I'm fine," she beamed at him, "maybe later."

"How about some grapes?"

She wrinkled her forehead at this, having eaten grapes while on earth.

He pointed to the palnab berries, and she nodded. "Oh, they are like grapes, aren't they? I kept thinking grapes reminded me of something, but I couldn't remember what."

How did we get to talking about grapes? he wondered as he turned on the CD player. The soft music calmed him a little as he realized with a start that he felt the same way he had in college the first time he'd invited a woman over to his apartment.

He took a deep breath and sat down on the bed facing her, copying her cross-legged posture, their knees almost touching.

"This is beautiful, John." Her gaze took in the whole chamber.

"I aim to please, ma'am," he drawled, basking in the glow of her approval. He felt he'd done so little to earn that warm, loving look.

He took another deep breath. "Need anything else?"

"No, it seems you've thought of everything." She reached out then, slowly drawing a finger down the side of his face, causing a thousand prickly sparks to radiate from the contact. She leaned closer, brushed his lips with her own, and then kissed him gently, her fingers massaging the back of his neck.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, pulled her closer still, slowly intensifying the kiss until his tongue was searching out the recesses of her mouth, as his hand started to lift the bottom of her T-shirt.

"Ah! I almost forgot!" Aeryn blurted with the slightest hint of alarm in her voice, pulling back.

"Wha . . . ? Forgot . . . ?" he mumbled, finding it difficult to pull his attention away from the sweet softness of her lips.

"It's a surprise," she responded. He couldn't decide if she looked smug or embarrassed; maybe a little of both. "Stay still," she continued, as she stood, moving behind him, "and close your eyes."

Puzzled, he started to ask a question, but having seen the determined look in her eyes, all embarrassment gone, he decided it was better to follow instructions.

[shipsister]

"Alright," she said after a few microts, "you can turn around now and open your eyes."

"Ok, babe, what's the . . . big . . . " The rest of the sentence died in his throat, as it was impossible for him to talk when he couldn't breathe. He sat staring at her, wondering if the lightness in his head came from oxygen deprivation. He managed not to pinch himself; awake or a dream, he didn't care.

She was standing maybe two motras from him, to allow him to take in the full effect. She had discarded the T-shirt and sweatpants, and was wearing . . . a bustier? It was a deep pink, and looked smooth and cool to the touch; which was good because he could feel his temperature rapidly rising. She was perfection in it. His brain couldn't separate out the details, but the combined effect of her long, bare legs, the way it slimmed her waist even further, and lifted her breasts . . . yeah, that was it; a bustier.

But no lingerie had ever affected him like this. Of course, he knew it wasn't the garment; it was Aeryn. She had always been the most beautiful, desirable, sexy woman on either end of the universe. What had him standing at attention now was that she had done this for him. Aeryn Sun, former Peacekeeper, pilot extraordinaire, the soul of practicality, had put on sexy lingerie for no reason other than to please him.

"You like?" she said, arching an eyebrow, with one hand on her hip, barely able to suppress her delight at the obvious success of her surprise.

"Oh, babe . . ." he finally managed to exhale, standing up and walking over to her.

"Well?"

"Like? Baby I . . . you look . . . you know you could give a guy a heart attack wearing something like this?"

"So I've been told."

In some part of his brain it occurred to him to wonder by whom, but his body had moved on to other things. Reaching out and pulling her towards him, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her into the deepest, most passionate kiss he could muster. As his tongue explored her mouth, his hands explored the smooth fabric, allowing him to confirm its coolness while his caresses elicited moans suggesting her warmth was increasing at a rate equal to his own. He tugged at the flounce that softly draped her hips, fingered the sheer panties beneath, played with the stitching outlining her breasts, let his hand wander from the satin of the garment to the silkiness of her skin.

Finally breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead on hers. Lifting up slightly, she caressed his closed eyes with her lips, and then leaned around and tugged at his earlobe with her teeth. When she took it into her mouth and flicked it with her tongue, he moaned his response. Smiling, she whispered, "Why don't you lie down, and get a little more comfortable?"

Gazing into her eyes, he rested a microt in the comfort he found there, then kissed her again, carefully backing towards the bed he'd created for them. When he felt the edge of it against his heel, he tightened his hold around her waist and lifted her off the floor, never breaking the kiss. He slowly twirled her around and set her gently down, her bare feet sinking into the comforter. Finally loosening his grip on her, he released the kiss as well, and reminded himself that he wanted to take his time.

As he released her, she moved to the middle of the bed. Keeping her eyes on his, she slowly sank down, then beckoned him to join her. Mesmerized by desire, he had no choice but to fall to his knees in front of her. Burying one hand in the thickness of her hair, he pulled her into yet another kiss. His free hand cupped her breast, then both hands set a rhythm that had her clutching him, forcing her own hand under his T-shirt to capture a nipple, her other hand ruffling through the short hair on the back of his head, echoing his rhythm.

When he moaned against her lips, she stopped briefly to pull his T-shirt off over his head, then reached behind to unfasten her own garment. He pulled her hands back to him, saying thickly, "Not yet."

She searched his eyes, surprise registering clearly on her face. He was a little surprised himself, but he wanted to feel the bustier against his skin, prolong the experience of her in it, of the incredible gift she was giving him.

"Just a little longer," he managed, and saw understanding replace surprise as she smiled at him and lay back, resting her head on the pillow.

He thought his heart would thud through his chest, seeing her lying there waiting for him. He scrambled up to rid himself of his jeans, then his calvins, grinning at her audible intake of breath as the calvins came off.

He lay down beside her, and she moved to close the distance between them, sliding her strong yet slight frame onto him. Her certainty of the rightness of their lovemaking shone in her every move, and banished any lingering doubts from his heart. He wasn't tempting fate; this was the way it was meant to be.

When their bodies began to move in concert, the bustier's softness combined with her body's firmness ignited his senses. After many microts of increasingly deepening kisses, intense stroking, and rhythmic grinding, he rolled her back onto the bed, moving the comforter out from under her. Then he began his exploration in earnest of her perfection combined with the dusky pink confection. He savored the mingled tastes, textures, and scents until her fingers were pulling at the hairs on the top of his head and she was calling his name softly. As her calls became more urgent, his inquiry became more intense, fingers and tongue increasing their pace, until she finally gave herself over to her climax, his name still spilling from her lips.

As her ragged breathing slowly returned to normal, he lay on top of her, careful to balance most of his weight on his arms, but settling enough to maintain his contact with the bustier's smoothness.

He kissed her gently as he felt her body shudder once beneath him, then relax.

"Off to a good start, hmmm?" he murmured in her ear.

She laughed, and smiled at him. "Not bad," she sighed contentedly.

"Not bad?" Pretending offense, he moved to lay by her side, and pulled one thin strap down from her shoulder. "Well, I was operating under challenging circumstances," he offered, kissing the now bare skin.

"And you think you could achieve better results under more favorable circumstances?"

"Gar-run-teed, ma'am!" complete with goofy grin. His eyes widened at her answering giggle, a sound he would have thought completely foreign to her. He could only take it as a true sign of how much she trusted him, to allow herself the silliness of giggling in his presence.

"And what do I receive if your efforts fall short?" she challenged.

"Well, ma'am" he continued in the same exaggerated drawl, "Ah guess ah'll jest keep tryin' tillun ah git et rite!"

This time she burst into laughter, loud and long. She had heard his natural drawl many times, as well as the one he used for effect, but this was beyond all others, and she couldn't contain her reaction.

Her laughter sparked his, and wanting to prolong this moment he began to tickle her. When her insistent protests, then her gasped warnings failed to dissuade him, she glanced an elbow against his sternum, then rolled him onto his back and sat on him.

"Don't do that again," she emphasized, still smiling and panting.

As he opened his mouth to reply, she added with mock sternness, "And no more of that strange human accent!"

Appreciating her steely gaze and remembering her effective elbow, he closed his mouth quickly, settling for a mischievous smile. Holding up his hands as if in surrender, he waited until he felt her relax, then quickly grabbed her shoulders and flipped her back onto the bed. This time he let his full weight settle on her, denying her leverage to roll him off. When she attempted to protest, he covered her mouth with his own, then ground his hips into her, turning her protests into a low, slow groan.

As he felt the heat begin to build between them again, he reached under her to toggle at the bustier's clasps. He wondered where and when she'd found a bustier in Tormented Space, until she rolled her hips under him, squeezed his butt, and trailed soft kisses down and around his neck. Then all he could think of was getting it off of her, of having no barrier between them. He tried the clasps again, with no success.

"Here, let me," she offered, with only a hint of impatience. He lifted up enough to let her reach the clasps on her back, impressed by how quickly and efficiently she undid them. As she began to pull it off, he stopped her.

"No, let me."

She stared at him as if measuring his meaning, then lowered her hands and lay back on the bed again, the once tight fitting garment now loosely surrounding her. He was grateful that she accepted so readily, and wondered when she had come to know him so well. To know without words that in order to believe in this reality, he needed to take it in slowly, needed to hold each moment for a microt before letting it go?

He didn't want to think about when she'd learned. She knew, she understood. That's all that mattered.

Sitting up, he straddled her, then reaching out with both hands, he carefully slid the straps off each shoulder, allowing her to pull her arms free.

Then he slid the bustier down slowly, until he uncovered her breasts.

His long, low exhalation prompted her to smile slightly, as if pleased by her effect on him.

Then she closed her eyes as he let his hands and mouth roam freely, first softly stroking, gently sucking, encouraged by her low moans. And when her body began to move in response, his touch became firmer, his tongue more insistent. Her hands found his hair, kneaded the back of his neck, massaged his shoulders, and then ever so slightly began to push him, not away, but down.

OK, baby, he thought, message received.

He kissed the smooth space between her breasts, then rose up, and slid the bustier down further, revealing her flat stomach and taut abdomen. He carefully traced her lower abdomen with his finger, then bent and softly kissed right below her navel. Our baby, he thought. As long as it was hers, it would be his. Looking up into her glistening eyes, passion stilled for a moment, he knew that now, she understood this too.

Turning his head, he closed his eyes, and rested his ear lightly on her abdomen. He imagined he could hear the baby, patiently waiting until it was safe to grow and join them.

Giving their child a parting kiss, he returned his attention to removing the bustier.

He brushed his hand over the garment where it rested on the curly mound between her thighs. Pleased at the breathless reaction his slight touch evoked, he pulled the bustier past her hips, then slid it down her legs until she could finally kick it aside. Freed now from any restrictions, he lay down between her legs, and nuzzled the softly matted hair he'd uncovered, inhaling deeply. Nudging her thighs further apart, he kissed, then caressed her tender folds with his tongue. Lost in her sweet taste, he held onto her hips as she alternately struggled away from the intense sensations, then arched back towards him, as if unable to deprive herself. She grasped at his head, wrapped her legs over his shoulders and let herself ride the waves of her escalating pleasure, her low moans intensifying with each plunge of his tongue.

Continuing to hold her firmly as her body began to jerk with small spasms, he imagined what he could not see: her eyes closed, brow slightly furrowed, tiny beads of sweat glistening on her forehead as she bit her lower lip and skirted the edge of her climax. He let go of her hips, moving one hand to cup her breast, teasing her nipple, and with the other gently probing, finding her most sensitive spot, and massaging it, as his tongue continued to thrust into her, creating a three part harmony of unbearable delight for her.  Her cries, loud now, ragged like her breathing, fueled his own excitement, causing him to push her harder, faster, until she erupted, her orgasm cascading over both of them, threatening to destroy his last semblance of control.

As her body slowly calmed, he breathed deeply, willing himself back from the edge. After several microts, he eased her legs off his shoulders, then kissed his way gently up her slim torso. Finally face to face, he smiled to himself at the accuracy of his imagination. Although her brow was now smooth, her eyes were still closed, forehead damp, and lower lip still held captive between her teeth. It gave him a singular thrill to be able to do this for her; to bring her such unremitting bliss.

He sighed and rested his head beside hers, hoping he hadn't overplayed his hand and left her too drained to fully enjoy the grand finale.

As if reading his mind, she lightly ran her fingers over his butt while rolling her hips under him, whispering, "You weren't planning on leaving me here like this, were you?"

His laugh came out as more of a grunt. "Babe I wasn't planning on leaving you at all." He moved one hand under her butt, pressed her into him, then rolled with her as she continued to move against him. Amazed at how quickly she had returned to complete arousal, he concentrated again on maintaining his control as her legs wrapped around his back and she arched into him, her hands moving in deep strokes down his back, across his butt, over his shoulders; damn, her hands were everywhere . . . .

Her breathing no longer calm, lips pressed against his ear, she whispered, "John . . . please, now. I . . . need you . . . inside me . . . now." Her words, somewhere between desperate plea and insistent demand, made his heart pound and his head spin.

Responding with a low moan, he whispered back, "OK, baby . . . just tell me. . . do you want -"

The rest of his question was lost as she stroked his face with one hand and pushed down on his butt with the other, and said thickly, "You John, I just  .  . . want . . . you."

Then he was inside her, she was surrounding him, and nothing else existed for either of them. They began their rhythmic dance, slowly, deliberately, every sensation reverberating through them, between them: the scent of passion, strong and unrelenting, the feel of their entwined bodies, slick and warm, their mingled tastes, sweetly pungent, their urgent exclamations, proclaiming both total devotion and total abandon, and the precious sight of one long cherished, no longer an elusive fantasy.

Every dream realized, ascending together, they reached the peak, then in the safety of each other's arms, dove over the edge, into ecstasy, fulfillment, peace.

Yes, that was it; what he'd felt all those cycles ago. The absolute rightness of their union. A sense of completeness. But beyond even that - peace. That's what she gave him. More than passion, more than love. A deep, abiding peace that chased away all the pain, all the loss, all the failures. It had frightened him the first time; he hadn't recognized or understood what it meant. Hadn't known how much he needed it then, or would need it in the days to come. But now he knew, and craved what she could give him. The peace that she brought to the center of his being was his greatest defense against the terrors that he feared would some day destroy him.

Looking into her eyes, he could see that now, she knew too. Sighing deeply, closing his eyes, he let himself rest, let that sustaining peace cradle them both.

When he moved finally to roll off of her, she tightened her arms around him, and locked her ankles around his hips.

"Just a little longer," she unwittingly echoed. Her turn to make the unexpected request.

"You ok?" he asked, brow wrinkled, afraid he had seen a wisp of sadness cross her face when he'd tried to move away, afraid he knew it's source.

"I'm fine," she attempted, but he could see that she was struggling to maintain her smile. "Just let me hold you," again, a simple request that he knew held more meaning.

"OK, babe," he breathed, rubbing his cheek against hers. He decided not to make her bare her soul. Just give her what she needs, he thought. Trust her to know.

He felt her unlock her legs, and lifted up slightly to allow her to shift them beneath him.

He tried to hold some of his weight off of her, but found it difficult as his fatigue settled in.

"Just don't let me fall asleep up here, ok?" he murmured, already drifting away.

"Shhh, John; I'm fine," she said softly, and began to rub the hair on the back of his head.

The combination of her gentle caresses and quiet breathing nudged him towards oblivion, and the security of her embrace allowed him to go the rest of the way.

**************

He awoke with a start, afraid they had stayed too long, but relaxed as he remembered the DRD's would warn them when it was time to leave. Then he realized that since he was flat on his back, Aeryn must have moved him off of her without waking him, deadweight and all. She was now nestled comfortably beside him, with her head resting on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes again, determined to memorize how this felt: cool skin, soft hair, her arm snug around his waist, her steady breathing softly tickling the hair on his chest. There was still a part of his brain, despite everything, that was afraid this would be a one time deal. That this was all he would ever have with her, a series of incredible one night stands. Not that he didn't trust her; he knew she was in it for keeps. It was fate he didn't trust. Even if this reality was meant to be, he knew that wouldn't stop fate from frelling with them the first chance it got.

She stirred against him, immediately alert, and his fears fled in the wake of her brilliant smile.

"Hey," she said, as she reached up and caressed the side of his face.

"Hey," he responded, running his fingers through her hair.

"I guess it's time to put things away, get ready to go," she observed.

"Guess so." He kissed her, trying to banish the sadness he heard in her voice.

Her restored smile convinced him that he'd succeeded. She sighed, then sat up, scratching her head as she looked around the dimly lit chamber.

He resisted the urge to pull her back down, to start their long, slow dance again. There wasn't enough time, and besides, he wasn't nineteen. But then she stretched, raising her arms above her head and arching her back, and he decided that what he lacked in stamina he could make up for with versatility . . . .

Just as he was about to reach up for her, she leaned down and kissed him deeply. When she finally released him, she reminded, "We should really be packing up now; we haven't much time left."

Now she decides to be practical, he mused as she turned away, moving to get up.

"Aeryn?"

"Hmmm?" she responded absently as she retrieved her sweatpants and T-shirt from where she had abandoned them.

He sat up, his eyes following her as she finished dressing and opened a bottle of the chelnac juice.

"I love you."

She wiped a trickle of juice from her chin, set the bottle down, and solemnly came back and kneeled beside him on the bed.

"I love you too, John. More than . . . ."

Seeing the tears forming, he rose up and took her in his arms. 

"I know babe, it's ok, I know."

"I was so afraid, when I frelled everything up about the baby, I was so afraid I'd ruined it - that we'd never - you'd never-" The tears were spilling over now, and he searched for a way to comfort her.

"No, baby; no way. I was mad, I was, but no way was I bailing on you." A pang of guilt stabbed him as he wondered why he'd thought deceiving her was the only way to protect her. The reasons that had made so much sense before seemed pale and insubstantial in the face of her pain.

She held onto him tightly for several long microts, as if he was her anchor, or she his. Finally, murmuring "Thank you," against his neck, she let him go and stood back up.

"Aeryn, wait . . ."

"There isn't time now, John; the others will be up soon." She bent down, kissed him lightly, smiled reassuringly. "We'll talk more when we get back."

He nodded, then got up and started pulling on his clothes. Once dressed, he began to dismantle their bed, and found the bustier buried under the sheet.

Remembering his earlier question, he was about to ask her where she had found such a thing in Tormented Space when he realized it had a label.

For the second time in less than four arns the garment threatened to stop his heart. Victoria's Secret the label informed him. He stared at it for several microts as the implications gelled in his brain.

"Babe . . . you got this on earth?"

"Of course, John," she responded as she found the storage compartment in Moya's wall and started piling the mats inside.

"But . . . when?"

"You know, shortly before Christmas. Shopping with Olivia."

Right; Livvy had gone Christmas shopping with Aeryn and Pip. He knew that. Aeryn had been pulling out gifts ever since they'd gotten back, although she'd had to be more discreet about it once they'd reconciled. But the gifts, while extraordinarily thoughtful, hadn't been this . . . intimate.

"But baby, when you bought this, I was . . . we were . . ."

Her just dried tears assaulted him again. I was pushing you away and breaking your heart, he wanted to say, but couldn't get the words out. At the point in time when he had hurt her the most, when they were as far apart as they'd ever been, and he was offering her no hope of that ever changing, she had gone out and bought something that spoke only of her faith in their future.

Beyond hope.

"Oh, baby," he breathed, tears threatening, overwhelmed by her steadfastness in the face of his rejection. "I'm so sorry -"

She was at his side immediately, stilling his words with a hand placed softly over his lips. "No, John; it's alright. We're past that now; I know why you did what you did, and that you still loved me. That's all that really matters. And that we're together, now. It's alright."

He closed his eyes and listened as she spoke, not just to her words, but to the sound of her voice. Calm. Certain. Loving.

He'd thought he was the one who knew what it really meant to commit to a relationship, to love fully and unconditionally. That he would always be leading her, if only because she'd had no experience from which to draw.

But it seemed that somewhere along the line she had learned the lesson, despite a misstep or two, without him realizing it. Had maybe even passed him in the unconditional love department.

When he opened his eyes she was still standing in front of him, just a few denches away, her hand now on his cheek, waiting.

He looked down at her gift, still clutched in his hand.

Then back at her, still waiting on him.

To catch up with her? he wondered.

He dropped the bustier, reaching to cup her face with one hand, and pulled her even closer with the other.

So much he wanted to say to her, but there was no time; there was never enough time. So he tried to put as much as he could into his kiss - how sorry he was that he'd hurt her, how he'd never shut her out again, even in an effort to protect her. How he knew it wasn't enough for her to want to be his partner; he had to let her, too. And from now on, he would.

He broke the kiss, held on to her for a few more microts. Then a DRD broadcast three short beeps; their time was up. He sighed, reluctantly releasing her.

"Why don't you go on, babe, I'll finish up here." There wasn't much left to do; stow the candles, eat the berries . . . .

"Alright. John? Meet me in Pilot's den before we leave?" She had that mysterious look on her face again, the one that always meant she had another gift for him.

"Sure babe; I'll meet you anywhere, anyplace, anytime! You name it, I'm there!"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but smiled broadly, caressed his cheek, and turned to go.

"Hey baby, don't forget this," he tried not to leer as he held the bustier out to her. "I want a repeat engagement when we get back."

"Hmmm. We'll see," she responded, taking it from him, unable to hide the warm glow that came over her at his words.

As she left the chamber, he decided that he'd have to talk to her later about figuring out a new plan for managing Scorpy. Maybe he'd get a clue at this camp where they were headed. But one way or another, he'd - no, they'd - find a way to end this charade, so that they could stop hiding, and just be together.

Everything now stored away and the chamber cleared, he made his way back to his quarters to prepare for the trip, looking forward to receiving whatever gift she had for him, and to seeing her one last time before they parted.

The end.

Thanks for reading!

[shipsister]

Very beautiful.  Tender and passionate and erotic.  Thanks for
sharing this.

sweet, sexy, and perfect

Ahhhhhh!  Happy sigh!!  Gorgeous, Sis!  Thank you so much!

hugs!