Originally posted 3/7/05Been working on this one for a while. It's what I've been calling the "Grayza's Kid" fic -- pretty much a direct sequel to
What Child is This?, and takes place about a cycle after that story.
In that fic, John and Aeryn learned of the existence of Grayza's daughter, and vowed to find out for sure whether or not she was John's child. Well, they're getting their chance.
I'm calling this NC-17 lite even though the betas thought "heavy R" covered it. Clearly I'm more prudish than they are.
Many thanks to imloco2 and shipsister for patience with this rather long story....and also to MadScientist and ShipsCat for additional help. Thanks to Crash for a lovely Sebacean word, to the rest of the Bunnies for encouraging me about the smut....
Oh, and about the smut -- It's not my fault. You know how Rygel says something like, "At times we couldn't get you apart with a chilnak fire hose"? Well, that's how they were in this fic. They have pulse pistols. How could I argue???
Rating: NC-17 light (or heavy R -- for sex)
Setting: 1 cycle after PK Wars
Spoilers: Through PK Wars, obviously
Disclaimer: Not mine, no disrespect intended, no money being made. Love them to pieces!
I'm going to break this into two parts and post the second here in the replies. I hope you'll enjoy this.
And the Clouds Parted....
In the wake of the Scarran-Peacekeeper War, John Crichton and Aeryn Sun, tired of running and even more tired of fighting, cast about for a place of peace where they could unwind from cycles of trauma and get to know their newborn son. When the call came for help in rebuilding the great Temple on Arnessk as a home base for those Eidelons who had survived the Scarran attack on Qujaga, it didn't take them long to decide to join the effort. To their surprise and pleasure, they arrived at Arnessk shortly after a small band of ancient Eidelons -- including their Interion aide, Joolushko Tunai Fenta Hovalis -- dug their way out of a shelter in the depths of the ruins. Nearly a cycle of good, hard work, and joy in their new family had given John and Aeryn happy memories of the planet to dim the horrors of previous visits....* * * * * * * *
"Come on, D, blow out the candle! Blow out the candle!"
Aeryn watched, bemused, as John tried to cajole their son into taking part in a ritual marking the first anniversary of the boy's birth. The child was seated in his father's lap, and it was hard not to notice how much alike they looked, the same brown hair, the same clear blue eyes, the same chin.... A flaming candle adorned the dessert on the table in front of them.
D'Argo, Aeryn was quite sure, had no idea what to make of all the fuss his father was making. Jool, Noranti, and several Eidelons stood around the table, also encouraging D'Argo to extinguish the flame. Thank goodness Rygel had declined their invitation to come to Arnessk for the party -- As much as she would have liked to see him again, she could only imagine the entourage the Dominar of Hyneria would have brought along!
As it was, the little one was near tears.
"Crichton," Jool warned, "the wax is going to drip down and ruin my hard work if someone doesn't blow that thing out!"
"You can do it, buddy!" John said, bouncing the baby on his lap. "Just pucker up! Come on!"
Enough was enough. Aeryn stepped forward and bent down so her head was level with D'Argo's. She caught his eye and commanded, "Watch!" When she saw he was looking at her, she took a breath and blew out the flame.
As a thin wisp of smoke rose towards the ceiling, the baby grinned, and Aeryn looked triumphantly at John. "What?" she said, in response to the look on his face. "Next time he'll know what to do!"
John squelched his annoyance and said, "Baby, he's got you wrapped around his little finger!"
"Me?" she retorted. "I'm not the one who retrieved his ball when he threw it in the filcha pit -- six times!" she added, even as she admitted to herself that it might be true -- but not in this case. John was so caught up in his earth tradition that he didn't see how overwhelmed their son was by it all. But it was so important to him, and it was hardly the first thing to be confusing to the little one, so she just shook her head and nudged him along. "What comes next?"
"Next," John said, turning his attention back to D'Argo, "we cut the cake!"
D'Argo brightened. "Cake!" he said, and pointed gleefully with his finger.
John put D'Argo's small hand on the handle of a huge knife and Aeryn went back to watching as together her husband and son cut slices of the sweet dessert for everyone present....
* * * * * * * *
Aeryn lay on her back in the near dark, John sprawled beside her, both of them still naked and enjoying the warm afterglow of lovemaking. John had taught her this, the quiet joy of just being with the man you loved. She curled her fingers into his in contentment, and let herself relax, not think about the trip they would be making tomorrow.
But John usually had an "I love you," or a "Damn, I'm good," or some other endearment or smart comment to murmur, and tonight he was silent. Something must be bothering him. About the time she began to give serious consideration to saying something, he rolled onto his side, facing her, and propped his head up with his elbow. She gave him an encouraging smile, and he asked, "Do you think D had a good time today?"
She considered the question. "He didn't understand what the party was about. And he ate too much cake." She smiled, and reached to stroke John's cheek, brushing damp tendrils of hair off of his face. "But yes, I think he had a good time."
John turned his head and kissed her palm, and then settled down against her, draping one leg over hers, and his arm across her stomach. She smoothed his hair again, waiting, and he finally said, with just a hint of sadness in his voice, "My father never missed a birthday, except but once, I think. He'd move heaven and hell to get back home no matter where he was...."
Aeryn bit her lip to hold back a sigh. It hurt her sometimes that she and D'Argo weren't enough, that the man she loved still missed the life he'd lost so much.... There were moments of pleasure, and pride, in her past, but they weren't tied to people, or places, one particular blue world.... There was truly nothing she missed, not any more. And then John nuzzled his face against her shoulder, and tightened his grip on her, and she thought, perhaps this wasn't about his father at all. He was too tightly wound up for that. Perhaps this was about a child who might be his, whose birthdays he would likely never see.
No amount of talking would help with those worries. It would take answers, which, she fervently hoped, they would soon have. Still, maybe there was something she could do to help him relax.
She stretched her neck so she could kiss his forehead, and commanded, "On your stomach!"
"Huh?"
She squirmed out of his grip and sat up on her knees. "Lay down on your stomach, John," she repeated. "I don't think that's too difficult to understand."
"Yes ma'am," he mumbled into the mattress as he complied, shifting a little to get into a comfortable position.
Satisfied, she climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs, and pushed her tangled hair behind her ears. She leaned forward and grasped his shoulders. His skin felt wonderful, warm and smooth, but the muscles beneath were far too tense. She frowned, and began to knead. John groaned, whether in pleasure, or pain, as she dug fingers into tight knots. "It's for your own good," she told him, working her way down his back, friction quickly warming her hands as well as adding heat to John's skin.
"Absolutely," he agreed with a deep sigh. "You just keep doin' that."
Feeling some of the tension begin to leave him at last, she paused briefly to tie her hair in a loose knot to keep it from interfering with her work.
"Don't stop," he murmured. "Feels good."
Aeryn smiled in the dark and continued to press firmly with her thumbs, spreading the pressure smoothly from his spine to the edge of his back. She advanced in precise rows as she worked her way back up towards his neck and his shoulders, taking pleasure in the occasional grunt and moan he let out when she broke the pattern to work on a tight spot.
She'd been at it for about a quarter of an arn, and the feel of skin against skin, amongst other things, was reminding her that there were other ways of relieving tension, when she realized that he'd fallen asleep. Satisfaction in achieving her objective outweighed any fleeting frustration, though, and she shook the knot out of her hair and bent down and kissed his cheek. She climbed off of him carefully, so as not to disturb him, then settled back beside him and pulled up the covers.
But now she was the one who was all wound up.
There was a soft thump from the room next door where the baby slept, and she seized on the distraction. She wrapped herself in a robe and headed to check on her son.
When she peered into his bed, D'Argo was sleeping soundly. He must have rolled over hard, or kicked the side of his bed to have made the noise she'd heard. Harmless. But instead of heading back to bed, she stood there, watching his little chest rise and fall in the dim light they kept in his room. She wouldn't be here tomorrow night, when he went to sleep....
She and John were leaving in the morning for the headquarters of Peacekeeper High Command. They'd been invited to attend a celebration for the first anniversary of the Scarran-Peacekeeper Peace Treaty, and after a lot of discussion, they had agreed to attend. Not that either of them wanted to go. They'd left all that behind them when they came to Arnessk to help rebuild a home for the surviving Eidelons. But it was the best chance that they were likely to have anytime soon to get near Grayza's infant daughter, to find a way of proving once and for all whether John was the girl's father -- and they both
needed to know, Aeryn more for John's sake than her own.
But the thought of leaving D'Argo alone here on Arnessk -- even with trusted friends � was beginning to make her uneasy. Would he be all right? He liked the Eidelon couple who would be staying with him, but...would he miss his parents? Would he worry? Would he eat properly? What if he fell? He wasn't very steady on his feet yet....
Her stomach tied itself in knots, and she bit her lip to stop tears from filling her eyes -- and then she almost laughed out loud, as she thought,
This is EXACTLY why the Peacekeepers don't encourage parenting! We're about to go into battle of a sort, and here I am, worrying about my child. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair.
Strong arms slid around her waist as John snuck up behind her. She leaned into him while he buried his nose in her hair, and then kissed her neck. She twisted her head back and kissed him, noting that he'd put on a pair of sleep pants but nothing else. Before she could say anything, he asked, "What are you doing in here, hmmm?"
"You should be asleep," she said, and then in a fit of honesty she nodded towards D'Argo and confessed, "I've never been separated from him before. I feel foolish worrying, but...."
John gave her a hug and said, "That's normal, Baby. Separation anxiety. It's part of being a mom. And you," he added, kissing the top of her head, "are a great mom."
She thought about that for a little while, and decided to accept his reassurance. She would simply have to make sure she didn't let these feelings interfere with her part in their plans. "What about you?" she asked.
John was silent for long microts, and then he said abruptly, "We shouldn't do this."
"What?"
"We shouldn't go. We should stay here."
She turned around in his arms. "Do you mean that?"
"Yep. Screw their Mardi Gras."
But the commemoration of the Treaty wasn't the point of this trip. If that had been all there was to it, they wouldn't be going in the first place. She put her hands on his arms and searched his eyes. "Can you put it aside? Truly?"
John looked over her head at their son for a long time, and finally admitted, "No."
She nodded once, in agreement. "Then we should get some rest," she said lightly.
"Yeah. We got an early wake up call." He took her hand and led her back to their bed.
She couldn't help hoping, as she snuggled in beside her husband, that this whole escapade would go better than their plans usually did.
* * * * * * * *
"What the frell?" Aeryn complained indignantly, neither motherhood nor their current richly decorated quarters on the Peacekeeper homeworld having made any impact on her vocabulary. "They can take their frelling dress code and--"
John reached out and picked up a strand of her long, dark hair, twirling it in his fingers. "I'm sorry, Baby."
She could see he was struggling mightily to keep a grin off his face. He opened his mouth to say more, and she snapped, "I swear to you, John Crichton, if you say 'You're beautiful when you're angry,' I'm going to--" She broke off, unsure of just what to threaten him with. Actually, she was pleased to see some semblance of his usual self in him. He'd been quiet to the point of brooding during the entire trip from Arnessk. Jool had more than made up for his silence, babbling on and on about the upcoming ceremony and the chance to visit a "civilized" world for the first time in hezmana knew how long. Fortunately, Aeryn herself was too pleased to have her hands on the controls of a spaceship to let either one of them reduce her pleasure in flying. She hadn't even missed D'Argo yet....much.
"Ah, come on," John wheedled. "You'll look really beautiful in some nice clothes."
She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
"Not that you don't look nice now," he said hastily, gesturing at her usual outfit of a form-fitting dark T-shirt, black leather pants, and boots. "God, you know you're the most beautiful woman on the planet, bar none, Sweetheart, but, it says here--"
Only slightly mollified by his groveling, she interrupted and snatched the protocols he'd been reading out of his hand. The expensive-looking hardcopy instructions had been waiting on an elaborately carved table when they arrived at the accommodations provided for them by Peacekeeper High Command, whose guests they ostensibly were. John sensibly kept quiet while she read the detailed instructions about allowable clothing one more time.
It very clearly stated that females must wear a long skirt. "That's just nonsense," she snapped, still fuming. "A Peacekeeper full dress uniform includes pants for both males and females! Why would High Command order a skirt for this commemoration?"
John shook his head. "This is technically a civilian do. Maybe someone's been talking to Joan Rivers about what to wear on a red carpet." He stopped for a microt and then shook his head again. "Look, Aeryn, that says you dress to their specifications or we don't get in. Do we go home, or do we go shopping?"
They looked at each other for a long moment trying to judge the depths of their commitment to this adventure.
"I'll go get Jool," she sighed at last. "She probably doesn't have anything suitable, either."
"Nope, probably not. Not after bein' in a deep freeze for 22 cycles, then stuck with us on Moya for another cycle, and then with those doddering old priests on Arnessk for another two," John agreed, proving that he'd actually been listening to Jool's monologue during their trip after all.
Aeryn couldn't help smiling at him. "Just make sure you're got everything you need as well," she told him, as she headed out the door. "If I'm wearing totally impractical clothing, so are you!"
His groan followed her to Jool's room.
* * * * * * * *
Aeryn surveyed her reflection once more in the large mirror provided by the shop. In spite of herself, she was pleased with what she saw. She knew that John would like the way the bright red fabric of the sleeveless dress emphasized the shape of her body. The simple round neckline was low, allowing the tops of her breasts to show. And she had no doubt she was going to have trouble keeping him from reaching through the thigh-high slits in the sides of the skirt whenever he thought no one was looking!
Of course,
she liked the slits because they would enable her to
move in this all-too-narrow concoction.
Of course that was why she liked them....
She turned around and looked once more at the way the fabric draped over her rear.
"That's the perfect color for you, Aeryn! It really sets off your hair!"
Aeryn looked up in surprise to see Jool in front of her, twirling around in a much more complicated dress with layers of light and dark green.
"Do you like it?" Jool asked without waiting for a reply to her previous comment. Orange-red curls bounced wildly as she indicated the gown she wore.
It was funny how you might not quite click with someone as a friend, but you could still come to care about them. Aeryn had barely known Jool on Moya -- fate and grief had kept them from spending much time together -- but still, Jool had been the only one besides John who'd tried to talk her out of leaving Moya for the assassination squad two cycles ago. At the time, the advice had only angered her, but afterwards, as the regrets piled up, she'd thought of that conversation -- and Jool -- with warmth. Both she and John had been amazed and happy to find the Interion amongst the small group who had survived the bombing of the Great Temple on Arnessk by fleeing to underground shelters. That was one less comrade who was dead because of them.
Aeryn looked at Jool's dress and smiled. She wouldn't be caught dead in it. "It suits you," she said aloud, which seemed to satisfy, and Jool flounced away. Aeryn shook her head as Jool squealed over a collection of shoes. At least the costume should allow enough movement that Jool would be able to do whatever they needed to do to get into a lab tonight, assuming they were able to get DNA samples from that bitch Grayza and her daughter. That was the reason Jool was with them in the first place. She was qualified to run the tests -- and she had been on Arnessk when Grayza was, so she didn't need any explanation why John was interested in the child's paternity.
Aeryn's stomach tightened in what she knew to be fear. They'd lived with uncertainty in the back of their minds for nearly a cycle, since Rygel had inadvertently told John of the child's existence. She would do whatever it took tonight to get the truth -- even though that truth could throw their lives once more into turmoil. What would it do to D'Argo's life? It wasn't frelling fair! Suddenly angry, she mentally heaped every curse she knew on Grayza's evil head. If only one of them would actually work....
Enough! she told herself firmly.
Finish shopping and get out of here, back to John! She had no idea what kind of mood he was going to be in when she got back, and that made her even more uneasy.
The proprietor, who had been watching her at a discreet distance, appeared at her side as soon as she came out of her reverie. He suggested a short black jacket over the dress, which Aeryn approved of -- it would give her a place to hide a weapon or two. Or three. She'd have to figure some way to smuggle
something past security, which was sure to be tight.
That left shoes. Even Aeryn could tell that her sturdy regulation boots, while the right color, would mar the effect of the dress. She sighed, and went to try to find something suitable that wouldn't impair her mobility
too much.
* * * * * * * *
"Hey, Baby!" John's cheerful greeting brought a smile to Aeryn's face. Thank Cholak he wasn't brooding again.
"Hey," she replied, closing the door behind her as she entered their room. The window coverings were open, giving a view of the vast city surrounding the official guest quarters. She barely noticed the buildings gleaming in the sunlight, however, or the statues and paintings of great Peacekeeper leaders of the past that decorated the room itself. John was the only thing in the over-full room that meant anything to her.
She grinned at him as she deposited several large packages on the bed where he was sitting, feet on the thick black carpet and hands on his knees.
"Come here," he said, reaching for her and pulling her into his lap.
She settled there with pleasure and wrapped her arms around his neck, claiming a kiss. "Mmmm," she breathed, and then asked, since he was still dressed as he'd been when she left him, "Did you get your approved clothing?"
"Yep," he said. "Pants and something kinda like a straight jacket in basic black. I'm good to go. Hey! What's that," he asked, as she swung her legs out in front of her and he caught a glimpse of her new boots.
Aeryn looked down at her feet. The patterned black leather clung to her calves all the way to her knees, not that John could see that beneath her pants. The toes were squared off, rather than pointed, which was a relief. The heel was perhaps as high as her thumb was long, and, though narrow front-to-back, was almost as wide as the shoe, which was another plus. Over the objections of the clerk, she'd worn them on the trip back to their accommodations to get used to balancing on the heels.
"Boots," she said succinctly. "I think you'll like what they go with."
His eyes sparkled, and he widened them suggestively, saying, "Oh?"
She patted him on the chest and stood up. She sorted through the bags until she found the one containing her new dress. Her only dress, actually.... With John watching her every move, she made a show of opening the package and removing the clothing within.
Holding the dress up in front of her, she looked at him and said, "Well?"
John let out what he called a wolf whistle, two appreciative notes, and then said, "Um, Baby?"
She widened her eyes in question, and he pointed out, "It's not black."
"No, John, it's red," she said, playing along. "Like the bedcovers."
He smirked, and then shook his head and said, "You look sexy as hell just standin' there. I can't wait to see it on you."
"Or off me, more like," she smirked in return, suddenly conscious that they were actually alone, in the middle of the afternoon, no child to interrupt anything they chose to do to pass the time.
He gave her that quirky grin, the one that melted her insides, and with no further thought, she draped the dress over the back of a chair. She turned back around to see that John had moved her purchases from the bed to the floor, though he was still sitting on the end of the bed. He held his arms out to her and said, "Come here."
She settled herself on his lap again, facing him this time, straddling his legs. John reached around her neck and pulled her lips down to meet his. Kissing quickly escalated to pleasurable groping and teasing, and Aeryn soon had him down on the bed beneath her. Laughing, he tried to pull her shirt over her head, or maybe it was just an excuse to play with her breasts, because he was certainly doing a lot of
that....
However much her blood was pounding under John's unerring attentions, Aeryn had her own target in mind. She slipped away from his grasp, smiling at the groan he let out. With deft fingers, she unfastened his pants, caressing the bulge in his crotch as she did so.
John shivered at her touch and murmured, "Oh, yeah, that feels good...."
"I can make it feel better," she grinned, and gave him a quick squeeze. Spurred on by his moan, she made quick work of his boots, dropping them on the floor. Arms tangling in their eagerness, they worked together well enough to get his pants down to his knees, along with his underwear, and John finally managed to kick the offending clothing off the end of the bed.
Breathing hard, they paused for a moment and looked at each other, savoring the moment. "Love you, Baby," John said.
"I love you, too," she replied, and then bent over him to claim her prize.
She'd barely gotten started with a feather-light touch of her tongue when the comm unit across the room beeped loudly.
Frell! John groaned, "Go away! We don't want any!"
Since those were her feelings exactly, she tried to ignore the frelling thing, but whoever was on the other end was persistent, and it was possible it was something to do with the ceremony that evening.
With a sigh of apology, she leaned up and gave John a kiss on the mouth, then went to answer the call. It turned out to be a protocol officer with the news that their departure time for the trip to Grand Chancellor Grayza's command carrier, where the ceremony was actually being held, had been moved up. He was very apologetic, but very firm.
John's eyes never left her during the call, and Aeryn could see him withdrawing back into that place where he was imagining having to do battle with Grayza for a child whose creation had been an act of violence against him.
Frell. Frell, frell, frell, frell, frell!
Not that there was going to be any of
that now, she thought regretfully, though she was more concerned about John's emotional ups and downs than the lost chance for sex.
By the time she cut the comms, he was out of bed and looking for his underwear. The look of dejection on his face cut to her heart. "John?" she said tentatively.
"Hmm?"
She walked towards him and took his face in her hands, commanding his attention. "Remember what I've told you. Most likely you are
not the father of that child."
"But I might be."
"Yes. We'll know tonight." She refused to think about the possibility that they wouldn't be able to get to Grayza's child.
"Uh-huh."
She sighed and gave him a quick kiss. "Get dressed. We have to go soon."
* * * * * * * *
Aeryn, John and Jool looked around in amazement as they were ushered from their transport onto Grayza's command carrier.
Nearly all of the flight deck was decorated in grand style to serve as the setting for both the official Treaty Commemoration itself, and the celebration to follow. Hangings in both Peacekeeper and Scarran designs covered nearly all the wall space, and lights, sculptures, greenery and flowers were everywhere. Even the deck was covered with carpeting. Aeryn couldn't remember ever seeing so much luxury anywhere on a Peacekeeper ship, though she'd heard that the commanding officer's quarters were often quite luxurious. If she hadn't known she was on the flight deck, she would never have guessed.
John whistled softly as he looked around at the crowd. Several thousand people, mostly Sebacean, but also a few Scarrans and several Eidelons, were milling around waiting for the official ceremony to begin.
Looking at all the opulence, Aeryn was glad for her new outfit. True, the small pulse pistol she'd hidden in the jacket had been detected and removed by Peacekeeper security forces, so that hadn't worked out as well as she'd hoped. But the thin shilga blade she had slipped inside the hem
had made it past the checkpoint, so they weren't entirely weaponless, should things go
really pear-shaped. Oh, and the elegant red gown would definitely allow her to mingle without attracting undue attention later, when it was important.
She turned her attention back to her companions, and allowed herself to admire her husband while they were waiting. She hadn't seen him wearing any kind of formal dress in a long time, and he looked very, very good! While they were dressing earlier, John had grumbled about the tight cut of the jacket and the red shirt beneath it, but there was no doubt in her mind that it fit him to perfection, showing off his broad shoulders and muscular back and arms wonderfully. Nearly a cycle of hard physical labor on Arnessk had only accentuated the well-formed body that had caught her eye the first time she ever saw him.... Unfortunately, hitting at mid-thigh, the frelling jacket blocked her view of the way those pants fit snuggly across his rear.
She stopped gawking abruptly when she realized that John was quizzing Jool on their plan, such as it was.
"So, after they bore us all to death with speeches, you mingle while we pay our respects to Grayza, right?" he was saying. Aeryn cringed at the bitterness he managed to get into the word "respect," though Jool appeared not to notice it.
"Right. I mingle," the Interion said, grinning in anticipation. "And eat, and drink, and generally enjoy myself in civilization for a change!"
"Don't drink too much," Aeryn interjected, getting back to business. "We need you sober once we get the samples."
Before Jool could get too indignant, John cut in and changed the subject slightly. "Look, Jool, we're only going to get one shot at this, so if you've got any last-minute advice on DNA samples, let's have it."
Jool shook her head. "No. You know what to collect. Hair, skin, fingernails, piss, blood, spit, vomit.... It'll all work. Something from the baby, and something from the mother so we can be sure we're testing the right child. Oh, but if it's hair, be sure it's got the follicle on the end."
Aeryn frowned. "The follicle?"
"Yeah, the base, what the hair grows from. You have to pull it out, not cut it."
John's nose twitched. "Right, got it, yank the bitch's hair out by the roots," he said. "I can get down with that, how 'bout you, Baby?" He cocked his head and looked at Aeryn expectantly.
"Sure," she agreed with a grin, knowing he was talking about Grayza, not a defenseless baby. "Not a problem."
Jool knew perfectly well that they weren't serious -- well, not entirely -- but she heaved a martyred sigh anyway. "Children! Just don't get caught assaulting the Grand Chancellor," she warned. "They don't have a sense of humor around here, I'm sure."
John turned back to the matter at hand. "Just be ready when we need you," he said. "Aeryn will get us into a medlab, and you figure out who the papa is. Then we get the frell out of here, as fast as those shoes you ladies are wearing will allow." He walked two sets of fingers through the air, "wobbling" the gait dramatically.
Aeryn grinned, because she was hoping herself that she wasn't going to have to run in unfamiliar boots, although she was pretty stable in them by now. Jool's shoes, with high, pointed heels, were going to be a lot more problematic if something went wrong. But unless they made someone suspicious, or were discovered in a restricted area, their exit from the command carrier should be as simple as their arrival had been.
They all looked up as a splash of music commanded attention. "Looks like it's show time, folks," John said. He looked like he might have said more, and then clamped his mouth shut.
Jool touched his arm with sympathy. "It'll be fine, Crichton."
Aeryn flashed her a smile, and then took John's hand. He clasped her hand tightly, and they all turned their attention to the stage, where Grayza, along with a representative from the Scarran Empire, and the Eidelon Conciliator Muoma, stood, ready to celebrate an event that would probably continue to give John nightmares for the rest of his life.
* * * * * * *
Author
