Originally posted 1/16/04I've been watching Farscape, 2 or 3 eps a week, with my son and his fiancee. We're into season 4, and last week was both parts of
What Was Lost. And I got angry at Grayza all over again....which is what inspired this fic, though it really didn't go the way I thought it was going to. (Now, does that surprise anyone?)
Many, many thanks to imloco2 (the ending!
), shipscat (a couple John bits) and Crystal Moon for the beta help, and to auna for telling me to just go post!
Rating: I'm going to say "R" for violence and language, but you may well find it "PG-13" - this is
not darkfic.
Setting: about 8 months post-BT
Spoilers: through BT
Disclaimer: These characters and this universe were created and are owned by people far more talented than I. I really appreciate being able to play in their sandbox, and absolutely no disrespect is intended!
I hope you enjoy.
Kiss the Past Goodbye
"I've finished chopping the tarnak root," Aeryn announced, laying a large cutting knife down on the counter and pushing the chunks of purple vegetable into a large pile. "Is that enough?"
Chiana glanced over briefly and said, "Yeah. That'll do, doncha think?"
Aeryn smiled. "Depends on how recently Rygel's eaten."
"Are you kidding? You know he's still got a stash of sweetcakes in his chambers!"
Aeryn had drawn more than her share of kitchen duty lately, because of her advancing pregnancy. The chore brought her no particular pleasure, unlike Chiana, who reveled in the process of turning diverse foodstuffs into a meal, but it was necessary, and she knew the enormous bulk of her growing child would not allow her to do prowler maintenance or neural conduit repair or any number of other jobs requiring physical agility or a slimmer profile, so she made the best of it. At least Chiana was good company, and never made her feel as if she were fragile just because she was near giving birth -- unlike John, whose concern, though understandable, sometimes drove her mad....
They were working on the evening meal, Chiana improvising ingredients for a stew and Aeryn doing the grunt work.
"What next?" Aeryn asked briskly, wiping her hands on a towel.
Chiana peered into the pot where she was browning chunks of ploveek meat. She scraped at the bottom of the pan, and said, "I think this needs more lutra oil, but there isn't any more. Can you find me some kinda oil? I'm sure we have some more around here somewhere."
Aeryn raised her eyebrows. "Oil," she said, as she began looking through the food storage cabinets, trying to guess where cooking oil might be stored if it wasn't in the usual place, which was within Chiana's reach.
"I think there's some over there," Chiana suggested, gesturing with the utensil she was using to a cupboard across the room.
Aeryn sighed, seeing it was one of the lower cabinets. Bend over, or crouch? If she bent over, she'd be more likely to lose her balance and fall; but crouching meant it would be harder to get back up again. Either one would be embarrassing. Frell. Cholnak knew she wanted this baby -- but she wanted it outside of her.
Now! Another two or three weekens was far too long to wait.
"Aeryn? Hurry up, will ya? It's gonna burn!"
"Then turn off the heat and come do this yourself!" Aeryn snapped. Chiana wisely didn't answer, and Aeryn sighed again and settled for bending over carefully and opening the cabinet door in hopes that she could see the oil and reach it. Ah. On the upper shelf, thank goodness, a clear container holding some kind of nearly colorless liquid, clearly labeled, "oil." She leaned on the counter with one hand, and grabbed the cylindrical container with the other. Holding it out to Chiana, she said, "What about this?"
"What kind is it?"
Aeryn shrugged as best she could with her hands and her balance occupied. "Teffya oil?" She hadn't the faintest idea what that was, and apparently neither did Chiana.
"Must be something of Granny's. Bring it over and let me check it out."
Aeryn straightened up with as much dignity as she could muster, tugging with her free hand on the stretchy black T-shirt that covered her abdomen, and brought the oil over to Chiana.
The Nebari took the top off and sniffed. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"What?" Aeryn demanded. She took the bottle from Chiana and took a whiff. "It smells all right to me," she said, which was true.
But Chiana held firm. "Uh-uh. Keep looking. That stuff's awful. It reeks almost as bad as Crichton when --" She broke off suddenly and turned away, concentrating her attention on the cooking pot.
That in itself was odd; Chiana rarely censored herself. "When what?" Aeryn asked curiously.
"Uh, nothing. Nothing at all." The words tumbled out of the Nebari's mouth, and she looked up at Aeryn hopefully.
Aeryn fixed her friend with an almost maternal glare. "If it was nothing, Chiana, you wouldn't have stopped."
"Look, just forget about it, it's old news," Chiana insisted. "You probably know all about it anyway."
It was probably the frelling hormones raging through her body, or the fact that she was tired, and uncomfortable, and her back hurt, but Aeryn found herself far more exasperated with Chiana than she normally allowed herself to become these days. She didn't really much care what Chi had been referring to, but it was becoming a matter of pride to drag the information out of the girl. "Well, then, it isn't a secret, is it? I can think of hundreds of times John ended up smelling of something foul. Which one is it you were referring to?"
"You weren't there," Chiana admitted reluctantly. Something in the tone of her voice made it clear that she was referring to one of Aeryn's two prolonged absences, not some routine mission.
Faint warning signals went off in Aeryn's brain, but before she could either back off or push harder, the smell of burning meat drew both their attention back to the stove for a moment. Chiana yanked the pot off the heat, waving burned fingers in the air to cool them, and the two women stared at each other. At last, Chiana cocked her head to the side thoughtfully and said, "You don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"Arnessk?"
Aeryn suppressed a wince, remembering the planet where Scorpius had found her, near death from heat delirium, and she had struck a deal with John's worst enemy. But she had no idea what Chiana was talking about. John had said very little about
his visit there, except to talk about the ancient priests they'd freed from stasis, and the possibility that they held the key to the connection between the human, Sebacean and Interion races. "What happened on Arnessk?"
Chiana looked Aeryn over from head to toe, pausing briefly to stare at the bulge of the baby, Crichton's child, and then apparently came to a decision. She jerked her head up and said, "I think you deserve to know, but you gotta promise me you won't tell Crichton I told you."
Aeryn didn't know why, but somehow, that frightened her. Chiana was never afraid of John. "Just say it, Chiana."
"You know, you know Grayza found us there, right?"
"Yes."
"And she captured most of us, including Crichton."
Aeryn nodded, suppressing her irritation with Chiana for taking the long way to the point of the story. At least she was talking. It couldn't be
that bad.... Arnessk had been over a cycle ago for both of them. John was here, and alive, and if he'd acquired some new scars during the time she had been gone, well, so had she.
"Well, you know, she, she wanted to find out what Crichton knew about wormholes."
"Doesn't everyone?" Aeryn managed a small smile, even as she wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach, because that was all too true, no matter what else Chiana was trying to tell her.
"And the tralk, she's got a secret weapon. For interrogations." The Nebari smiled nervously, then looked away and muttered, "Frell!"
Apprehensive beyond belief, Aeryn squeezed her eyes shut and then said, "Just tell me, Chi. It's not going to get any better for your delays. What did she do to him?"
"The bitch has a heppel oil gland. She used it on him."
The words didn't quite penetrate, and Aeryn stared at her.
"Do you know what that is?" Chiana asked nervously, probably afraid she was going to have to spell it out.
"Yes. I know what it is." Aeryn looked away as her brain skirted around the personal implications, kept to what she knew about Peacekeeper methods. "Disrupters sometimes have the gland implanted, use the oil in their work...." But try as she might, she couldn't keep up the dispassion, and her stomach curdled as she imagined John's humiliation and his rage at being forced to do something he wanted no part of. No matter what changes had come with his time in the Uncharted Territories, he wasn't a Peacekeeper, he wasn't a man bred to casual recreation. To have been compelled, especially with an enemy, must have sickened him. That frelling
bitch!
Chiana must have seen her growing anger on her face, because she reached out and touched Aeryn's arm. "Hey," she said, misunderstanding the cause of Aeryn's anger. "Hey, Aeryn. It wasn't his fault, he was --"
But whatever Chiana was going to say was lost because Aeryn's pregnancy-stressed emotions kicked into overdrive. "I will
kill Grayza!" she roared, shaking off Chiana's hand and dashing into the corridor as fast as her ungainly body allowed. In a blind rage, she headed for the docking bay where John was unloading supplies. How dare he keep this from her -- she could have killed the bitch at Katratzi if she'd known, and instead, she'd even left him
alone with Grayza! "Crichton!" she yelled, beyond caring whether he could hear her or not. "Crichton!"
Chiana flew out of the kitchen in hot pursuit. "Aeryn!" she called. "Aeryn, you frellnik,
stop!! You can't talk to Crichton about this!"
Aeryn wasn't really up to running, and Chiana caught up with her quickly. She made a grab for Aeryn's arm. Aeryn shook her off the first time, but the second time she got a grip, Crichton's voice came through his wife's comms. "Aeryn? Is that you? You okay?"
Even relayed mechanically, his voice penetrated the haze of anger, and Aeryn stopped and looked at Chiana, breathing heavily.
"Just give me a few microts here, will ya?" Chiana hissed in tones low enough not to be picked up by the comms.
Controlling her breathing, and her anger, with an effort, Aeryn nodded and then said into her comms as calmly as she could, "I'm fine, John, never mind."
The silence from the docking bay was deafening, but John had grown accustomed to the mood swings of her pregnancy, and finally he said, "Okay, babe, just take it easy."
Aeryn let it go at that, blood still pounding, and looked at Chiana.
The Nebari took a deep breath, looked up and down the corridor to make sure they were alone, and plunged into it. "Okay, look," she said, "I, I know what it's like to be used like that. It's ugly. Ugly. And you feel...dirty." She glared defiantly.
It hit Aeryn forcefully that in this, at least, Chiana had a better perspective on John than she did. She nodded briskly, knowing Chiana wouldn't have accepted sympathy for the misfortunes of her life -- never had, never would -- and waited for her to continue.
"Crichton, he, he took it hard," Chiana began, and stopped, wincing at her phrasing, perhaps. After a microt or two she went on. "I think he's found a way to deal with it, though. You and him, you're together, right? He's not having any trouble with, you know, sex."
It was a statement, not a question, and Aeryn didn't bother to confirm it beyond a simple, "And?"
"And it's better to leave it behind him, no matter how much you wanna kill the tralk. It might make
you feel better, but it won't help him to know you know."
"Then why the frell did you tell me?" Aeryn blinked back tears as her emotions got the better of her. "You didn't imagine I'd be angry?"
"I don't know, I....guess I figured you could figure out a way to kill her -- later. I didn't think you'd want to go talk to Crichton about it now!"
"He's my husband, Chiana. He's been hurt. Of course I want to talk to him."
"Look. I get that you want to take this to Crichton. That's how you two are. You're there for each other. But please," she begged. "For me. Don't put this one on him."
Aeryn closed her eyes, which probably wasn't a good idea, because all she saw was Grayza's smirking face back at Katratzi. Gloating. The tralk must have known she didn't know.... Frell Crichton! He should have told her! As her anger spiked up again, she realized that Chiana was right. She couldn't go to John with this, not now, anyway. Not when her emotions were still so raw she was likely to sound as if she was blaming him for something that wasn't his fault....
"All right," she said. "You're right. We'd only end up fighting, and that's not fair." She looked at the floor, or as much of it as she could see around her stomach, and then looked back at Chiana angrily. "But I still want to kill the bitch! What am I supposed to do?"
Chiana gave her a lopsided grin. "Kick some walls?"
Aeryn sighed. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea....
* * * * * * * *
Aeryn grunted as her fist connected with Grayza's jaw. The look of astonishment on the filthy tralk's face was extremely satisfying. "What's the matter, didn't think I'd be able to track you down?" she sneered.
It had been almost too easy. She'd had no trouble weaving her slender form through the barroom crowd to confront Grayza where she stood, looking ill-at-ease and alone. Aeryn hoped the bitch was going to be more of a challenge than it seemed so far!
For a few microts the two women sized each other up, Peacekeeper to Peacekeeper, while the business of the grungy bar swirled on around them. Not even the bartender made any move to call the guarda -- Aeryn had known it was that kind of place the moment she'd followed Grayza in, which suited her fine. Private business was private business.
"Aeryn Sun," Grayza pronounced at last, rubbing her jaw where Aeryn had hit it. "What have I ever done to you?"
As if the bitch didn't know. "Anyone who harms John Crichton answers to me," Aeryn told her in a voice harder than hydrosteel.
And then a bit of the old arrogance was back, and Grazya smiled broadly. "Oh? I didn't see you on Arnessk. You weren't looking out for him then!"
Stung, Aeryn swung her fist solidly at Grayza's face again.
Better prepared this time, Grayza blocked the blow with her arm. But Aeryn smoothly grabbed Grayza's elbow and twirled her around, and pulling the flat-butted bitch up tight against her body, one arm across her throat. "I
will kill you," Aeryn hissed into her ear.
Grayza stiffened in alarm, but it would have been too easy to just break her neck. So instead, Aeryn spun her around so they were facing each other again, kneed her in the stomach and shoved her across the room, where the tralk landed with a thud on the dirty planks of the floor, knocking several large drunks of assorted species aside on the way.
The witch clambered to her feet, gasping for breath, apparently convinced at last that Aeryn truly meant her serious harm. They settled down to business. A circle opened up around them as the rest of the clientele scrambled to avoid the possibility of their intoxicants being knocked out of their hands or spilled onto the floor.
Grayza launched herself across the room at Aeryn, but Aeryn stepped deftly aside. She landed a perfect kick with the full force of her regulation boots on Grayza's knee as the bitch tried to overcome her momentum and stop. Aeryn watched in satisfaction as her prey collapsed to the ground in agony.
"Did I hurt you?" Standing over Grayza, Aeryn's voice was oily even to her own ears, and she didn't care at all. "Sorry."
Grayza snarled without words and shoved off the floor, lunging for Aeryn's arm, intent on pulling her down. Aeryn grabbed Grayza's arm with her own and rolled gracefully into the fall, propelling Grayza over her body and pivoting the bitch onto the ground with the full force of her own weight. The tralk's head lolled sideways, the wind knocked out of her.
Ignoring the low buzz that suggested some of the patrons were finding the battle entertaining, Aeryn finally gave herself over to revenge. She climbed atop her quarry, and began raining blows on the bitch, face, arms, chest, anywhere within reach, giving vent to her rage over what this woman had done to the man who was
hers....
Her knuckles were smudged with Grayza's blood, and her fists were aching, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms to her side. She struggled to free herself, but then a much-loved voice in her ear caused her to pause and think.
"Aeryn! Aeryn, stop it!" John's tone was low but urgent. "Aeryn!"
The barroom and its inhabitants faded away, and she was standing in Moya's exercise room, a still-quivering punching bag in front of her -- sweaty, great with child, and breathing hard. She could feel the tension in John's body, and letting go of the remnants of her daydream, she turned in his arms as far as the baby's bulk would let her and rested her head against his shoulder in apology for worrying him.
John sighed in relief and kissed the top of her head, but said nothing.
The baby kicked just then, a series of three hard pokes directed, intentionally or not, against its father's firm body. John obviously felt them, because he stroked Aeryn's hair and said softly, "I think Junior would appreciate a smoother ride for a while, huh?"
She took a deep breath. It was odd how just a few microts in John's comforting presence did more to soothe her than all the imaginary revenge she'd been able to conjure. She relaxed into him and murmured her acceptance of his gentle rebuke.
John took that as consent to lead her across the room to one of the benches that were spaced along the walls of the exercise chamber. He sat her down gently but firmly and settled himself down beside her. In one smooth motion, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him, and without a thought, she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
As her heartbeat and her breathing slowed to normal, John cleared his throat and asked, "What was that all about? Or shouldn't I ask?"
Chiana's warning passed through her mind, and she wondered briefly if it would be better to leave him in ignorance that she now knew what Grayza had done to him on Arnessk. Perhaps it would be kinder, as Chiana had suggested, but it wouldn't be better. Secrets were poison between them.
But even with all she'd learned over the past two cycles, she didn't know the words to use to get to the truth directly, not with something this...painful. Deliberately using his own language, she said softly, "Blowing off a little steam."
He considered that briefly and then asked casually, "I do something to piss you off?"
That was so far from the truth, even though she'd been mentally berating him earlier for not telling her what had happened, that she picked her head off of his shoulder and smiled at him. "No," she assured him, with a firm shake of her head. She was still a little hurt that he hadn't told her, but her anger was reserved for Grayza.
"Well, you sure looked like you were trying to pound someone's face into paste."
"You're not far off. But it wasn't you." She hesitated, afraid to take the final step in the journey.
"Who?" John asked, nudging her along.
"Grayza." There. She'd said it.
Silence hung over them for a moment, and then John spoke. "You heard." His voice was just a little bit flat, just a little bit sad....
Aeryn bit her lower lip and nodded her head nervously. "Yes."
"How?"
"Does it matter?" she countered, remembering Chiana's plea not to be named. If it came down to John or Chiana, she would choose John, but if he didn't need to know....
He thought about it for a minute. "Not really," he said at last.
That didn't seem to need an answer, and they sat in silence again for a bit. "I couldn't help it," he said finally, looking sideways at her.
"I know," she said, looking him in the eyes so he could see the truth of it.
When she said nothing more, John asked, "Did it help?"
After all this time, she was used to his mental leaps, but she didn't quite follow this one. "What?"
John gestured at the punching bag.
"Oh." She pondered the question for a few microts. "Not as much as I'd hoped," she admitted.
John kissed the top of her head. "Forget about it. It's the past. The bitch got what she deserved," he said. "I can just imagine her face when her little lap dog sat up and bit her...."
Aeryn smiled at the conjured image of Braca turning on his mistress, and then searched John's face, wondering if he were downplaying his feelings for her benefit, perhaps because of the emotional chaos of her pregnancy. But he did seem, as Chiana had suggested, to have found a way to deal with Grayza's assault. Still, there was the matter of her own guilt.... "I should have been there," she sighed. "I could have done something."
"Shoulda, woulda, coulda...." That vaguely sad tone was back again.
She looked at him, curious what he meant.
"We can't change the past," he said, shaking his head. "It happened the way it happened, and Einstein'd have my head on a platter if I tried to change anything." He paused for a moment, smiling wistfully. And then he shook off the melancholy, and a brilliant smile lit his face. "Screw the past. We have the future," he told her, laying his hands on her stomach. "You, me, Junior here.... We have the future."
The satisfaction in his face and his voice was enough to convince her that however much he'd been hurt on Arnessk, he'd accepted that it happened, and moved on. Though he obviously didn't want to talk about it, neither was he brooding on it. That was the important thing, wasn't it? This man she loved so much was all right. She covered his hands where they still rested on her belly with her own, and did as he'd asked.
Frell the past. She took a deep breath and let it go.... "Screw the past," she said aloud, blinking against the sudden moisture in her eyes. She'd blame the tears on hormones if he asked -- but he didn't.
He kissed her, first her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. "I love you," he said softly, and she knew she'd done the right thing.
She wouldn't dwell on it.
But she also knew that if she ever saw Grayza again, the bitch was going to regret the past thoroughly....
Aeryn pushed that thought out of her mind and gave John a wide smile. "I love you, too," she said.
No doubt someone would call them for dinner soon, but while she had him here alone, she might as well take the opportunity to make a good memory. She drew him into a long kiss that left them both breathless.
John allowed her only a few microts for air before he captured her mouth once again with his, and she gave herself over to savoring his kiss.
There were things in your life best forgotten -- and things you never wanted to forget.
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