Crackfic for Cofax! Part II
Mar. 3rd, 2006 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowPart One Found Here
***
With Aeryn gone, there’s room to breath in the turnip truck. Not much, and what little there is, Vala Mal Doran is currently using if the way her breasts are heaving is any indication. She’s certainly sucking up D’Argo’s supply of oxygen, or rather she's interfering with the way oxygen flows to the big guy's brain. John resists the urge to smirk. Boy may be crazy about Chiana but he’s got a soft spot for Sebaceans and an absolute love of booty. John wants to tell Vala that she’d be better off turning around and stretching, but he figures she’ll work it out on her own. He also figures that she’s mostly just toying with them.
“How much longer do you think we can hold on to this thing before someone puts out a call for its speedy return?”
Vala tilts her head. “Half an hour, perhaps. It always takes them awhile and it’s near their rest time any way. If you want anything done in this sector, midday is not the time to do it.”
John shoots a look at D’Argo. “So we ditch the transport, find someplace new to hole up.”
D' nods, starts to scroll through the rickshaw’s GPS.
John’s com chirrups and he and D’Argo both look at it with a start. It’s too soon for Aeryn to have encountered trouble. “Commander?” Pilot’s voice is hesitant. That’s not a good sign.
“Yo, Pilot. Everything okay.”
The silence stretches and Vala’s eyes grow wide and curious.
“Your… contact has arrived on planet.”
D’ shoots him a look.
“Thought he wasn’t due back until nightfall.”
“Well, apparently there’s been a change of plans.”
The edge of snark in Pilot’s voice is a very bad sign. That conversation must not have gone well.
“We, uh, we’re sort of doing some freelance work Pilot…”
He glances at D’Argo who shrugs.
“They’re expecting you in an arn. If you aren’t there, they’ll find another crew.”
Damn. John swears softly to himself. They need the cash. Moya’s been flying to the left for the last week and it’s been nearly a month since they ate anything that wasn’t chemical green. At least he hopes that the green on those last cubes was chemical. They were a little fuzzy.
“Okay, Pilot,” he sighs. “Gimmee the coordinates.”
“They’re expecting Peacekeepers, Commander.”
Does the big lobster have ESP? They didn’t say anything about Aeryn being on her own extracurricular activity.
“Um, Pilot,” D’Argo breaks in. “Do you think we could speak to Chiana?”
***
Chi has the pants in one hand, and reaches for Vala with the other.
“I don’t know whether this is the draddest thing ever, or some really frelled up joke.”
Vala is cradled in D’Argo’s arms, but that doesn’t seem to bother Chi much. The girl circles the couple, and reaches out, lightning quick and snags a thread of Vala’s hair, yanks. Vala yelps and wiggles in D’Argos arms. He puts her down instantly and she wobbles.
John rolls his eyes, grabs the pants and as Vala struggles for balance, there’s a thunk, and the tink of metal against concrete. The Aeryn lookalike sets her mouth, and opens her eyes with exaggerated innocence.
“One of my pins must have come loose.” She fumbles for the back of the toga.
They’ve lived with Chiana for nearly a cycle. Objects tumbling from clothing is rarely a good sign.
D’Argo picks her up gently, and they all watch as her booted feet attempt to kick something behind her.
John stops the object with an easy block, bends down and retrieves it. It’s D’Argo’s knife.
“All right,” he says, “before we dress you up and let you play with the big guns, what else have you got squirreled away in there?”
Vala plays the situation for what it is, bluffs her way through with an admirable bravado. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Chi laughs with delight and John rubs his mouth. It’s going to be one of those days.
***
"You're sure this is the place?"
Crichton puts his hands on his hips, taps his fingers against the low chandler which winks and twinkles sending prismatic color across the dark room.
"Cat said turn right at the naked chick, then left at the turkey stand. Far as I can tell, we did all that."
"This looks remarkably like a brothel. Is that a…"
"Looks like Shanghai in the '20's. Me so horny…wait, wrong stereotype."
Chiana ignores him, flows into the low sofa, hides a smirk as D'Argo tries to figure out how to sit down without crushing the couch, topping over or letting go of Vala. The woman takes the problem out of his hand, nimbling slipping free of his grasp and curling into the area near Chiana's thigh, careful not to put weight on her eema. D'Argo flops down in the tiny space left on the edge of the seat and Crichton sits opposite.
They settle in for the wait. After a small server brings them tea, Vala's eyes scan the tapestries. "That one's patently ridiculous. You'd need a far superior sort of bench for that kind of maneuver to be effective."
D'Argo's eyes widen as he scans the tapestry, his gaze slides hotly over Chiana and her new friend, and she takes mental notes.
"Now that one…" Vala gestures to a smaller silk rug curving in the corner. "That one works exactly as promised."
She grins, winks at Chiana, "I'm far more flexible than I appear..."
Chiana catches Crichton nodding distractedly and her opinion of Aeryn notches a little higher, though truth be told she still feels the universe has given them the raw end of the deal as far as all possible permutations of the woman seated on the settee across from them.
Maybe they could keep both; one for Crichton and one for her and D'Argo to share. She looks good with one arm draped over his thigh, and Chiana hopes the meeting goes smoothly enough that they can hang out for a while afterward, see if they can both fit on his lap.
"...I just need to be pissy and butch, right? Easily done."
Crichton sighs. "Let us do most of the talking, just try to look as cold and threatening as possible."
"But darling, I'm not looking to flirt with all *three* of you, here."
She winks at Chiana. "Besides, you're already taken."
She does make the effort when their contacts are spotted at the door, sitting up straight on her wounded cheek with a wince that she quickly puts away, and spreading her long limbs out on the settee to claim more space. Spookily, her expression suddenly matches Aeryn's game face, and John realizes that at some point in the rickshaw she must have wiped her face clean of makeup.
***
Aeryn sits in the transport, back straight, both feet on the ground. She's utterly still, and it's beginning to make Daniel nervous. Her long thigh is pressed against his because there's not enough room in the back of the conveyance for two people, and anyway he lost part of his disguise somewhere near the gate and Teal'c and Mitchell voted him most likely to ride with the pseudo-goddess although he didn't think that was quite fair because neither of them seemed all that afraid of her, or in fact particularly weirded out by her not-Valaness. Teal'c is driving, while Mitchell takes point in the back.
For Daniel's part, he's mostly unsettled by the woman's silence. Vala offers a continuum of talk, of nonsense and noise, particularly when she's bored. Aeryn just sits still.
"Um, that thing you're doing now. It might be a good idea to keep doing it. Once, we get to the meeting room."
Aeryn tilts her head towards him. "What is it that I'm doing?"
"Not talking. I think it's probably a good idea to continue doing that."
She tightens her mouth. "You're insane," she says, sounding vaguely ambushed. "Aren't you?"
"Nooo." He looks at himself. "Just… joined at the hip to a thief and a liar and deliberately misleading one false god with another for the prospect of information. But not insane. Technically."
She closes her eyes, breathes heavily through her nose.
"So, you want me to remain quiet. Even though I'm supposed to be a god?"
Daniel licks his lips. "Well, can you sound like Darth Vadar?"
She blinks. "I'm going to say no."
"Then yup, silence is probably best. Unless I give you a signal." He waits for her to ask what kind of signal. She doesn't.
"I think I will continue practicing."
She shuts her mouth, stares forward and Daniel wonders if he can become one with the rickshaw door.
***
The boss is recognizable, if shorter and more matronly than she appeared in the message. She's dressed in snowy white with a walking cane she doesn't need, stepping smoothly over a Hynerian who's rolled from his comfy pallet into the walkway to stand between the couches and look them over. Her lack of physical gravitas is made up by the sheer dark bulk of her bodyguards and the subtle way in which they seem to be satellites around her, staking out the corner of the den and sharply nodding an all-clear.
"Well. What a fine bunch of younglings you are. Won't you join me?"
With that she wanders off to one of the private rooms at the back of the joint, her entourage like a squadron of Marauders clearing the way for the Farscape.
***
Daniel and Teal'c flank her as they walk into the small temple. They have more experience with pseudo-Goa'uld and Mitchell's been sent to collect their ticket out, should something go wrong.
Aeryn has paced her walk, smoothing it out and while she's still not moving like lemonade and candy, her hips have taken on a decidedly hypnotic sway. Several followers, their arms full of flowers, kneel and gasp at the sight of her and Daniel feels that tickle at the back of his neck that tells him things aren't exactly what they seem. This far out in a city this populous, Quetesh should be a vague figure, a statue in a home or two, not an object of public devotion.
They murmur her name and Aeryn stops, stares at the people on the ground.
"God," Daniel whispers as reminder and she straightens her shoulders, raises her chin and walks past her followers. A tiny girl runs ahead, tossing rose petals at her feet. Aeryn looks at her sternly and the girl holds up a flower. Teal'c moves to intercept, looking gravely down at the girl.
"You may not approach unless given permission, little one."
The girl's eyes dart from Teal'c to "Quetesh". She holds the flower to him, and he takes it. "Go back to your mother." The girl darts forward quickly, tiny hand sliding over Aeryn's gold dress, then dashes back towards the entrance of the temple.
Teal'c offers Aeryn the flower, mouth twitching with amusement. She looks at it, takes it gingerly by the stem and holds it by her side.
At the end of the temple hallway, a set of carved doors suddenly fling open, and a small man in a blindingly orange suit steps out. Jewels wink on his fingers, and his hat needs its own zip code.
"Quetesh," he announces, voice vibrating with the Gou'ald double resonance. "You have come!! Welcome. We have much to discuss."
Aeryn continues to walk, brushing by the man with easy arrogance, entering the small room behind the door. Teal'c and Daniel follow, carefully ignoring the guards that stand point around the circular space.
***
There's a buffet laid out on a side table but no one partakes. The boss sinks down into a thick-cushioned chair, and John and Chiana sit across from her in two others. D'Argo steers Vala behind them to flank in a poor echo of the cordon of bodyguards arrayed around the boss, and peripherally John can see her strike a wide military stance, face toward the door and eyes all over the room. He edges their odds at pulling this off a little higher; maybe fifty percent. Good odds for them, better than they're used to.
"I'm sure you understand the delicate nature of this transaction."
The boss crosses her legs primly even though her feet don't reach the floor, but the rubber tip of her pimp cane screws into the soft carpet as she turns her wrist. "I have a great many sons who would gladly accomplish this task for a crumb of what I'm offering you. However..."
Chiana smirks at one of the Marauders. "You want the ability to cut your losses smaller than a narl of your own."
"It's not my intention to lose on this deal, I assure you."
"Then you found the right crew."
"As for particulars," the boss lays her cane across her upper knee, and a Marauder offers Chiana a datapad.
She hands it to John as if he were her own flunky. D'Argo reads over his shoulder, offering a grunt in opinion.
Vala snorts from behind John's other shoulder.
Now that she has everyone's attention she purses her lips against further amusement and gestures away from herself. "Sorry, do go on."
One thumb is tucked into her gunbelt but there's a non-Aeryn tilt to her hip and the hand she lays across her wide grin is self-indulgently graceful.
The boss's eyes have narrowed and tension reverberates through her entourage. It stills everyone else but provokes Vala to outright laughter. "No really, you can't be serious."
With finger and thumb, the boss turns her cane so the golden pommel glints in the light.
"This isn't half what a job like this goes for." Vala pulls the datapad from John's hand and tosses it, bouncing it off of a Marauder's chest. Her mirth has disappeared like the cable going out, her manner dismissive and bored. "Let's start again, on terms that aren't insulting to us both, shall we?"
The boss leans back, and another son offers another datapad directly to Vala.
John stands to join her but Chiana grabs his vest and murmurs into his ear, "Can we keep her? Pleeeeeeaase?" She licks the bare skin behind his ear and lets him go, and he tries to take back control of the negotiations but Vala's already read the offer and chucked the datapad aside with femme disdain.
"You have a high estimation of your worth." The boss speak directly to Vala. "We may yet do business, but I'm afraid I'll need some reassurance of the value of what I'm buying here."
Before they can stop her she's unholstered the prop pulse pistol they gave her, Chiana's edged halfway to the door and D'Argo has opened his Qualta blade to full-auto. In desperation John slaps his hand on her ass and takes advantage of the unconcealed wince to hiss, "What the hell are you doing?"
She turns to him, yanking her injury from under his palm and hissing back. "Giving a demonstration." She switches to a conversational tone, "Put one of those fruits on your head and stand against that wall."
***
"I am truly honored by your presence, Quetesh," Katar waves his hand, bows his head at the woman in the large elegant chair next to his. "But you have yet to answer my requests. If you won't grant me these favors, I don't see how I can possibly be of service to your other…" he glances at Teal'c and at Daniel "minions."
"We were summoned by you," Teal'c reminds Katar, his voice going dangerously low. "With an offer of information about the Orii. That is obviously of some interest to Quetesh."
Katar grins brightly, but his face goes blank at the mention of the Orii. " The Orii, um, of course. Yes, it's true. That's very true. I was hoping to be of… service… to my fellow god. I am but a minor deity in the grand scheme of things, and you are…" he gestures at her, eyes tracing her body. "But such devotion is usually… rewarded."
The small man's false smiles scrape against Teal'c's final nerve. Something here is very, very wrong.
"In fact," Katar continues, "I think perhaps Quetesh should remain here, alone, so that we can continue this conversation, without the distraction of…lesser beings."
Aeryn leans back and crosses one long leg over the other, exposing a pale thigh. "I don't think so," her voice black with derision. They're the first words she's spoken since they walked in. Katar freezes, mouth flapping open.
"But, I've been your devoted friend," he gives her a sly leer. "Your… confidant." His eyes flash to Daniel, darting like a rodent. "Dismiss them and we will discuss this transaction, together. Just the two of us."
It could have been the disgusted snort, could have been the aggressive gaze, but whatever the final straw that broke the nope she's not really a goddess any more than I'm a camel's back, it is now crushed into the dirt.
"It's a trap," Daniel says bitterly, sounding like he really should have been less surprised.
"Of course it is," Aeryn mutters, and her posture changes from deity to warrior, hand going down to her boot.
Katar sucks in his breath, loses the vibration, and hisses, "You're not Vala Mal Doran!"
"Um, no."
"Seize them!"
"Straight from the evil overlord handbook."
"Chapter one," Teal'c agrees.
The guards move forward, on of them seizing Aeryn up out of the chair. She barely struggles as they round on Daniel and Teal'c.
Katar raises his arm, face red with rage, aims his fist and light shoots from it. Aeryn leans, Daniel ducks, and Teal'c rolls his eyes. The wall explodes behind them.
In the frozen silence that follows, the woman who is not Vala Mal Doran says, "Frell this," and smashes her elbow into the throat of the guard holding her.
Before the guard hits the ground, Teal'c has raised the muzzle of his P-90 and put a round through the chest of the false god.
After this, the situation goes, as O'Neill would say, "all to hell".
Teal'c has noted on previous occasions that the elaborate stone carvings common to many temples provide optimal cover during a firefight, although Daniel Jackson has insisted that this does *not* in fact provide a satisfactory explanation for Tau'ri churches of the Gothic period.
Vala's double would seem to have the same instincts, and her smooth roll takes her behind the same broad pillar as Teal'c. Through the smoke and the sparks, he can see Daniel Jackson's zat being aimed around an ornate statue depicting the local deity engaged in an unidentifiable act with a small animal of some kind.
"Show me how this works," she says, hefting the staff weapon she took from the guard. Teal'c puts his hands over hers and activates it; at the first crackle and hum, she nods tightly, drops to one knee - gold fabric ripping as she does so - and fires.
Her first blast goes high, taking out a chunk of masonry from the bas relief above the door, but she adjusts her aim immediately and fires again - this time, with lethal accuracy.
He ducks around the other side of the pillar to fire another round, dropping two of the grey-robed guards. She rests the shaft of her weapon across a protruding basalt curlicue for balance, and fires three times in succession, calm and measured. With each blast, another guard crumples. She looks satisfied, comfortable for the first time since Daniel had finally persuaded her that she would have to go unarmed.
In recent years, Teal'c has come to accept that the P90 offers superior range and destructive firepower. But he was raised to believe that the staff weapon was the weapon of a true warrior, and at times such as these, he cannot deny a certain nostalgic regret.
In a momentary lull, Daniel Jackson's voice drifts across. "Okay, so, that didn't *quite* go according to plan."
The woman glances up at Teal'c and rolls her eyes in exasperation. "That constituted a plan?" she mouths. He raises a conceding eyebrow, feels a slight pang of disloyalty at their shared amusement. The Tau'ri are a noble and courageous people, yet their flippant speech had caused him a certain amount of puzzlement and dismay before he became accustomed to it.
Her next shots take out four of the guards.
He shoots five.
As the smoke begins to clear, he checks the perimeter of the room. The bolts on the inside of the door are heavy, but he doubts they would hold for long against a sustained attack.
"There would appear to be no other way out."
Daniel sighs. "Right, and there's a whole congregation out there who aren't going to be too happy that we just killed their god." He returns to the radio. "Mitchell, we could really use some back-up about now."
The woman is inspecting the staff weapon with a professional eye. "What sort of cartridges do you need for this?"
Before he can answer, the radio comes to life. "Wait up guys, just having a little parking problem out here."
"Less parking, more rescuing," Daniel shouts. "I don't think they're going to need that back wall anytime soon."
***
John growls low, "Frell *you*, lady."
She cuts off the argument by turning to the Marauders with a cheesy grin. "Which one of you boys would like to give me a piece?"
In a matter of microts a red and overripe binali is gamely tossed toward Vala, and with the tip of her tongue caught in her teeth she blows it out of midair like strategic defense against commie fruit.
The boss shrugs and sets her cane tip into the carpet.
The Moyans pause, pieces of binali strewn on them like sticky confetti.
"I've been looking to open this trade route for cycles now. Perhaps previous failures were due to an overabundance of discretion." The boss kicks her feet out to pull herself from the depths of the chair, as he Marauders close ranks around her and scout the hallway.
"Perhaps recklessness will succeed. We have a deal. The first payment will be loaded onto your pod with the cargo, and the balance will be provided by the recipients on Gifar. A pleasure."
The door closes and the pause continues until Chiana plucks a chunk of binali from her hair and pops it into her mouth with a giggle. D'Argo flops into a chair with a sigh and Vala announces, "You're welcome."
John follows her and yanks the pulse pistol from her hands. "There are *reasons* we didn't give you a cartridge!"
"Lucky for you I didn't agree with those reasons, isn't it?"
"She's got a point, John."
"She does not have a *point*, D'Argo. She has *Winona's* ammo."
"I thought her name was Aeryn."
"Aeryn's the girl, Winona's the gun."
"You named your *gun*?" Vala sauntered to the buffet table, chuckling. "And I thought Jaffa took it too far."
"You could have gotten us killed."
"Pshh." She tosses another binali to Chiana. "You've got a job and a tidy sum of currency, almost three times as much you would have gotten if I hadn't been here, I'm happy to add, and I'm equally happy to forgo my usual thirty percent cut and call it return favor for the first aid. Everyone's happy."
"Everyone could have just as easily been dead."
"And yet, despite your morbid paranoia," she cheerfully shrugs, eyebrows high and lips pursed, "no one here is actually dead."
"Pure luck."
"I don't much care for the luck the universe provides. I believe a girl who makes her own luck gets better quality luck overall."
And with that, she crumples to the carpet.
***
After a further muttered exchange, the sum of which seems to be Mitchell's doubt about the rickshaw actually being able to penetrate the wall, Daniel turns back to them, and points to the ceiling with one finger. "Roof."
A couple of staff blasts make a substantial hole in the painted wooden ceiling. When Teal'c lifts her up, she finds a handhold and easily pulls herself up and through, then turns round to hold out a hand for Daniel. Together, they find and secure a rope for Teal'c to haul himself up with.
Sneezing in the dust of the roof cavity, Daniel Jackson seems to feel the need to apologize. "Look, there was no way on earth we could have known -"
"On Earth?" she interrupts, sounding appalled. "You really are humans?"
Daniel stares back at her. "You're not?" Then, seized by thought, "Actually, that *would* explain why there haven't been any signs of entropic cascade failure, even if you did come through a quantum mirror. I mean, if there are subtle genetic differences that might preclude - "
She ignores him and falls behind with Teal'c as they make their way out onto the roof.
"Humans," she says, in tones of despair. "I should have known."
"*I* am not human, " he feels the need to point out. She nods, evidently unsurprised.
Outside, the tel'tak is hovering just above the temple roof, although irreparable damage may have been done to some of the gargoyles.
Mitchell, at the controls, is bright-eyed with happiness at having found another piece of "cool" new technology to fly.
"She didn't say they could fly," he shouts happily. "Seems like she could have mentioned it before I figured it out myself. But we're so not getting our deposit back on the rickshaw. I kind of… ran into it."
The small badge pinned to Aeryn's dress bleeps, and she taps it.
"Aeryn?" a deep familiar voice says. "Uh, Aeryn - we may have a small problem here."
***
Aeryn grips the staff and merely sways on her feet as Mitchell tilts the nose and accelerates away from the ruined temple with evasive curves through the city smog. Teal'c is amused to see someone dressed in the finery of a false god with such a Jaffa bearing. "What problem, John?"
Mitchell banks and burns, and the voice coming from her golden badge is drowned out by the sound of cargo breaking free in the compartment.
"Jackson, secure that--aw, hell--Teal'c--"
Teal'c is already there. He hands Daniel Jackson's glasses to the woman and lifts him from the deck. She bites one leg of the frames and offers both hands in assistance, ripping her skirt further and surprising Teal'c with her strength and gentleness as they lay him out on a bench.
"Aeryn? What's going on, there?"
"Vala will have also succumbed by now." Teal'c takes the glasses from her and folds them. "We must bring them in close proximity soon or both will die."
"Distributor cap. Frell."
She looks down at Jackson, bites her lower lip. The transport tilts up sliding them all towards the back and Teal'c growls.
"Sorry," Mitchell hollers. "Incoming!"
"John, are you anywhere near the pod?"
"Uh, no? Well, maybe. Dude, you're holding the map upside down. Gimmee that. Sorry, apparently it's hard to carry a passed out chick and get the directions right at the same time."
She starts to ask why D'Argo's carrying the map in the first place since he can't navigate his eema with both hands and a map half the time, but stops herself, figures she doesn't want to know, figures she's been spending far too much time with Crichton if the thought occurred to her in the first place.
"See, I was carrying her first because Chi decided enough was enough and because she stole my cartridge and D's a better shot, but then…"
"John, focus!!"
"Pod. Yeah, pretty close. Maybe. Sort of…. Ah frell. PK's, Aeryn!!"
Aeryn looks at Teal'c. "Can this thing break atmosphere?"
"Doubtful."
"John, we're coming to get you! I'll have Pilot get a fix on your signal."
"Oh shit, Aeryn, she's convulsing! There's…oh man, that is so gross, D'Argo do not wipe someone else's spit on me!!"
Jackson's limbs are flailing and Teal'c holds him down with as much care as he can muster while keeping the man from further injury.
"They need to be reunited immediately," he says.
Aeryn hits her com,"Pilot, can you triangulate off of me?"
She moves through the transport, wriggles into the cockpit, slaps her com down on Mitchell's console. "Pilot will use my signal to guide us to John."
"Forward about 500 metras, Aeryn, veer Hammond, go down the street, veer again. They should be somewhere near there."
She looks at Mitchell, his face a disconcerting familiarity. "What the hell was that?" he shouts over the roar of the transports engine.
"Aeryn, where the frell are you?" John's voice has that desperate tone that tears at her, makes her want to throttle him and lock him up for safe keeping. "She's dying!"
"Colonel Mitchell, Daniel Jackson is not doing well!" Teal'c's voice booms from behind her.
Mitchell snaps his jaw shut, head cocked.
Aeryn breathes carefully. "Straight, turn, down, turn, and forward."
"Colonel," Mitchell's own communications crackle to life. "There're soldiers at the gate, we can't get through. We need backup!!"
"Ah man," Mitchell says, sounding ridiculously happy even as he grimaces, shoots down the top of the street. "This is the life."
"Pilots," Aeryn mutters, and can't quite lose her own answering grin.
"Gonna have to drop you guys, come back later," Mitchell says over the roar of the engine. "Go offer some backup. I think this baby might even have some weaponry. Regardless, I gotta get my guys out of the way."
***
They're tucked up in the alley, John on point, Chi holding D'Argo's qualta blade as steady as she can, avoiding the PK's and panicking as the woman who looks far, far too much like Aeryn twitches in D'Argos arms, mouth foaming and then goes absolutely still. He knows it's not her, knows that whether or not he's gonna feel like crap if this woman dies, it isn't Aeryn, but somehow, the physicality is just a little too… much. It feels like a warning, like a flash back in reverse, foreshadowing of the worst kind.
D'Argo crouches and Chi holds his shoulder, slumping under the weight of the weapon. He takes Vala's hand and looks like he doesn't quite know what to say what to do.
The sound of helicopter blades whirring in the open space at the end of the alley startles all of them and the next thing John knows, a cross between a Blackhawk and a chicken hawk drops straight into the alley. A door opens in the side and a woman in gold jumps down to the ground, followed by a very large man holding some sort of bundle, ass first. It takes him a minute to process the gold girl as Aeryn.
She jogs forward, and the flying metal chicken moves straight up like a chopper as the big guy and the brown leather butt shuffle out of the way.
"God, you're a sight for soar eyes," he calls out, pushing out of his crouch and meeting her halfway.
"Teal'c," she points to the larger man. "Daniel Jackson." She pauses, "Also dying and foaming at the mouth."
"We put 'em together and get two great tastes that taste great together?"
Teal'c blinks, ignores John and makes his way to where D'Argo clutches Vala's limp body.
As soon as the two individuals come close enough, the color returns to Vala's cheeks. Jackson stops shaking and John breathes a sigh of relief.
"They will need plenty of fluids and time to rest," Teal'c says, squatting in the dirt next to the two, cradling Jackson's head in his big hand.
Chiana's face is awed, positively reverent. "Crichton, can we keep them all? Please, oh please."
Teal'c shoots her an amused look, raises an eyebrow.
John turns to Aeryn, takes another gander at the dress, at the rip that's crept all the way up to the top of her thigh.
"Deity," she says with a smirk.
"I'd worship you," John quirks his mouth and leans in, lips brushing against her cheek.
***
It doesn't take long to reach the pod, and amazingly enough their luck holds. Nothing blows up, no Peacekeepers or local authorities waylay them and while Aeryn may fervently long for her own clothing, the desire has nothing on the relief she feels at nearing the end of their association with this disquieting set of doubles.
They discuss their options as they make their way through the back alleys towards the pod.
"Your friend is picking up some other guys," John says, sussing out the situation.
"Colonel Mitchell is retrieving our backup, yes." Teal'c studiously avoids looking at John as he hefts Daniel Jackson up higher on his shoulder. "We will need to find a way to go back through the chap'ahai without being fired upon."
John glances at D'Argo, looks back at Aeryn. "Maybe we can help?"
Aeryn resists the urge to punch him. "Or perhaps we can offer you some water and shelter until these two are on their feet and then send them on their way."
Teal'c shrugs massive shoulders. "I'm certain we will find a way back. This planet is on the very fringe of our explored territory. Our gate lead first to a different planet. It was Vala's directions that brought us here through the second gate."
John tilts his head. "Gate?"
"Passages between worlds." Teal'c twitches his mouth. "They are not something we discuss ... with outsiders."
"Whatever." John looks grim, more than a little annoyed.
"One way or another, we should bring them back to Moya," Chiana's eyes are bright with avarice. "Let Zhaan see if they're okay. Give 'em some food and water."
"You have a physician?"
Aeryn catches John's eyes, ignores the way he's looking at her like they haven't done enough. She hates that look.
"Colonel Mitchell shouldn't be left to fend for himself."
"They have never been separated for this long, since they were… joined. I would prefer to have someone examine them, or at least monitor their responses until they awake. Colonel Mitchell will be… fine for the time being."
"You guys are military?"
Teal'c nods.
"Figures," John mutters.
***
Rygel is unimpressed, meeting them in the docking bay. When he sees the three visitors, he scowls. "No more mouths to feed!" He looks Teal'c up and down, spits on the ground. "That one looks like he could eat us out of ship and home!"
Zhaan takes their arrival with far more equanimity, seeing the injured and ushering them to the makeshift med bay. Leaving Teal'c to explain the situation since she barely comprehends what the problem is, Aeryn veers off to her quarters to find her own clothing. She trusts him enough to not pose a threat, but for safety's sake, she takes the staff weapon with her.
Still entranced by Teal'c and the humans, Chiana remains in the med bay with D'Argo, offering what observation and insight she can into what transpired when Vala collapsed. "One microt she was shooting binali out the sky, winning us a job, the next she was on the floor like a Jibrian trance dancer…"
A little surprised when John follows her out of the bay, Aeryn doesn't say anything as he keeps pace with her, stride shortened by the gold dress. He follows her into her quarters, swipes his hand over the door control and flops down in the chair in her quarters.
"Crichton." She doesn't bother to hide the irritation in her voice, and when he doesn't respond, finds the zip in the dress, lets it fall open and tugs it off. A move like that would generally provoke a reaction, but Crichton continues to sit there as she finds her own clothing and dresses quickly.
"Who are they?" he says finally, and there's an awful suspicion of hope in his voice. "That guy, whoever was flying that… thing that dropped you off. He was speaking English – not some weird translator version like Vala and the big dude, but English English. And he sounded a lot like… me."
"He was…," she says softly, and pulls open a drawer to find her spare holster. "Um, he's…."
"Quit waffling, Aeryn," he says, leaning forward, watching her steadily. "Who… are… they?"
She hadn't learned much from their brief adventure, hadn't asked much after the revelation that they were human. What little she had learned, she was more than reluctant to pass along to John. What incentive would he have, the tiny ugly voice whispered, to stay? He could leave, go back with them, return to the humans. Leave her behind. Her throat is tight when she looks at him, but they have nothing to offer each other but honesty.
"They're human," she says quietly, and turns away from him. "From Earth."
"You don't think it's someone fucking with us? Another Scarran? Another Maldis?"
She shakes her head. Nothing she saw, or heard, indicates anything more frelled than their usual run of surreal bad luck.
He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't get out of the chair either. The silence pulls tight and taut and finally she turns back, goes to stand in front of him. He reaches for her, hand curling around her hip, tugs her towards him. She raises her hand tentatively, lets it rest on the pale nape of his neck where the coat pulls away, where he's bare and vulnerable. He rubs his cheek against her belly and she allows the intimacy.
"Aeryn," her com chitters to life and Zhaan's calm voice floats through. "Our visitors are waking up."
"You should go speak to them," she says, soft and hoarse, and John uses her to leverage himself to standing.
"Yeah," he says. "I should."
***
It's the tea party of the damned in the med bay, everyone but Chiana clutching small metal cups, looking at each other like they're not quite sure which particular bit of protocol breaching will send the whole adventure tumbling off the rails.
Jackson is still prone, but Vala sits cross legged on the bed. With the absence of makeup, wearing Aeryn's clothes, she's a startling mirror of the woman behind him. Her mouth curves widely when he walks in though, and the wink at Aeryn erases the dizzying double vision. He'd lay odds on Aeryn's expression being way less friendly.
"You know, you maybe shoulda warned us about the passing out and drooling thing," he chastises.
Vala shrugs. "I didn't know if it would happen or not. Besides, it looks like everything's turned out splendidly."
She glances around the ship. "New friends, lots of shiny baubles, and tea that doesn't taste like it's been strained through someone's old socks."
Teal'c's voice is wry. "She recovers quickly."
Jackson opens his eyes at that, and gives a short squeal of surprise upon seeing John. He flounders to sitting, takes in his surroundings, and his eyes widen.
"Oh, don't worry darling," Vala offers, falsely soothing and ridiculously chipper, "they're friends. Or at least, I don't think they're going to shoot you. There's always that."
Teal'c stands, hands Jackson his glasses and Crichton makes his way to the higher bed, perching on the edge of it next to Vala.
Scanning back and forth between Teal'c and Vala, his eyes occasionally dropping to rest on John, he fights for coherency. "Is he… doesn't he…"
Vala laughs, "Isn't it fun?"
Jackson thunks his head back into the pillow.
"It gets better," she says, and reaches back, grabbing her pillow and lobbing it at the prostrate man. "This ship is alive." She points to Zhaan, "She's plant based." She gestures over to D'Argo, "And he can knock things out with his tongue." Vala cocks her head, grins slyly at Chiana. "I do wish we had time to explore that further."
"It's worth the effort," Chiana agrees vigorously, "Although sometimes he's shy."
Daniel stares at both of them.
"What?" Vala shrugs. "You take bloody forever to wake up and I had to entertain myself somehow. And Muscles refused to give them a naughty puppet show and ease my pain."
John holds his hands in his face, shaking his head. He directs his question to Jackson. "You feeling okay, ready to go back down to the planet?"
Jackson gives John a long assessing look. "Our… friend… is holding off who knows how many forces by himself in what appeared to be a toy helicopter, so we should probably be returning to offer him some… assistance."
"If it's any consolation," Aeryn offers, voice low and throaty and a little amused despite herself. "He seemed to be having a very good time."
"I'm sure," Jackson grouses. Then sits up quickly, and points sharply at Vala. "You… It was a set up… they wanted…."
Vala bites her lip. " Small man? Penchant for very large hats?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Didn't actually know anything about the Orii?"
"Mmm hmmm."
"Perhaps I misinterpreted the transmission just a teeny, weensy bit?" she squeezes her fingers together in a pinching motion, scrunches her face.
"But no real harm done, wouldn't you say?"
Daniel narrows his eyes. "No. No, I wouldn't. The most I can say is that whatever you intended to get here, you probably didn't. That might be consolation if it didn't give me nightmares to think about what you might have been after."
"Who says I didn't?"
Daniel's strangled garble muffle any potential words.
Aeryn comes to his rescue. "If it helps, she was shot in the arse."
Jackson shuts his mouth with a snap, purses his lips in a grin matched by Teal'c's snigger. Vala tosses her hair. "And it's going to need tending to once we return," she adds breezily. "I'm sure I won't have any trouble rounding up volunteers to help."
Finishing with her tea, Zhaan collects the cups, and stops near John. She touches his cheek as he gazes at their odd visitors, tilts her head towards Jackson, then towards the scanner.
"Yeah," he answers softly. "I know."
Aeryn's been holding the staff weapon since she entered the bay. Now she uses it to gesture towards the others. "John needs to speak with them," she says. It's a command, not an interjection. D'Argo catches her eye, nods and wraps a hand around Chiana's arm, tugging at her as she gazes longingly at the aliens.
"I'm going to prepare the pod," she announces, looking sharply at Vala and Teal'c, "and ready my prowler, in case other defenses prove necessary."
She narrows her eyes at Vala, scanning up and down her body. "And I want my clothing back," she mutters before shepherding the rest out of the bay.
"So," she hears John say with a sigh as she leaves, "You guys ever heard of the Farscape project? Or a guy named John Crichton."
***
The goodbyes are swift, Vala having convinced Teal'c that carrying her would be better than the alternative. She'd changed into the dress, exploring the slit in the thigh and lamenting the loss of her corset.
"It was my favorite shirt," she pouts prettily. "Good luck with the space piracy." She winks at Chiana. "Better luck with that tongue thing. If I ever find my way back, I promise a tag team effort."
Rendered incoherent at the image, D'Argo leans forward, kisses her cheek and she grins unrepentantly. "I've never experimented with tentacles," she says longingly, and grunts as Teal'c hoists her a little higher and Jackson shakes his head, then catches Crichton's eye.
"You're sure you won't come with us?" he says to John.
He nods. "Different slip stream, different universe. And I'd rather be… here… for now. But if you ever run into Jack Crichton…" he lets the words hang, not sure what to say. How much comfort can be passed along to a man whose son exploded into fiery bits over the Atlantic?
Jackson holds out his hand, accepts the handshake.
John taps his comm. "Aeryn, they're ready when you are."
***
It's chocolate pudding night, which is a poor substitute for Jello, but a damn site better than those gritty sausage fritters they'd been eating for two days on PZ457-980. Best of all, he was eating the pudding in good old American cotton, the leathers packed away into the back of the closet.
"He really looked just like me?" Mitchell sounds far too intrigued, even to his own ears. "Damn, always wanted a clone. Especially when I was playing desk jockey – someone to go to the DMV for you, to answer phone calls and talk to scary exes and to call your cousins on their birthdays."
Vala slowly licks the pudding off the spoon, pink tongue a delicate, deliberate tease. "Too bad he didn't want to come back with us," she says with a wink. "It would have been quite the scientific study to see just how similar you are."
Daniel groans, drops his head.
"I'm simply saying that certain curiosities should be study, examined, fondled…" she continues, shrugging her shoulders.
"You don't believe that we could have found his timeline?" Teal'c asks thoughtfully, and Daniel shrugs. "We don't have any kind of signal or address. We'd have had to keep trying, and he would have been stuck here while we did it. It could have taken years, and we really don't have the time to devote to that, not with things… as they are."
"Too bad, man," Mitchell says softly, and Teal'c raises an eyebrow, nods. "It must suck to be lost in the universe."
"He has friends," Vala says, emphasizing the word, deliberately scraping the rest of the pudding out of the glass cup, not looking around. "People who care what happens to him. He'll be all right."
***
There's only a little bit of raslak left, and she tilts the container, pours it into John's cup figuring that having a chance to return home snatched from your fingertips trumps putting up with an oversexed, overly made up, lecherous, thieving version of your double for a day.
"She stole my vest," Aeryn says sourly, and John slugs back the raslak, puts down the cup and brushes his fingers over the back of her wrist. "I liked that vest."
He strokes over her knuckles, absent and careful, thumb resting on her wristbone. "They must think I'm dead," he says, sounding infinitely weary. "I mean they're hoping I'm not, I bet. No body, no debris. DK will have calculated all sorts of odds, maybe even mentioned wormholes. But mostly, they'll think I'm dead."
There isn't anything she can add to that, but she turns her hand over, wraps her fingers around his wrist, squeezes gently. He looks up at her, eyes dark, a little lost.
"Chiana was all for a trade," she muses, wry, seeking a distraction for him. He's talked this topic out, and there's nothing left to say. She isn't sorry he stayed. But she wouldn't have wished this unhappiness on him, either.
His mouth twitches at that. "Would be quite the combination – those two against the UT's. We'd be the Robin Hoods of the universe, robbing from everyone to decorate Moya. We'd be hunted, but damn we'd be popular."
It's the first smile she's seen from him since the humans left, and she's absurdly pleased at his returning humor.
She stands up, walks to the other side of the table and leans down, voice a throaty whisper. "I might have kept her shirt," she breaths, "as a souvenir."
She saunters out of the mess, and grins to herself when halfway down the hall she hears the slap of boots against flooring, microts later feels the bump of his hip against hers.
***
With Aeryn gone, there’s room to breath in the turnip truck. Not much, and what little there is, Vala Mal Doran is currently using if the way her breasts are heaving is any indication. She’s certainly sucking up D’Argo’s supply of oxygen, or rather she's interfering with the way oxygen flows to the big guy's brain. John resists the urge to smirk. Boy may be crazy about Chiana but he’s got a soft spot for Sebaceans and an absolute love of booty. John wants to tell Vala that she’d be better off turning around and stretching, but he figures she’ll work it out on her own. He also figures that she’s mostly just toying with them.
“How much longer do you think we can hold on to this thing before someone puts out a call for its speedy return?”
Vala tilts her head. “Half an hour, perhaps. It always takes them awhile and it’s near their rest time any way. If you want anything done in this sector, midday is not the time to do it.”
John shoots a look at D’Argo. “So we ditch the transport, find someplace new to hole up.”
D' nods, starts to scroll through the rickshaw’s GPS.
John’s com chirrups and he and D’Argo both look at it with a start. It’s too soon for Aeryn to have encountered trouble. “Commander?” Pilot’s voice is hesitant. That’s not a good sign.
“Yo, Pilot. Everything okay.”
The silence stretches and Vala’s eyes grow wide and curious.
“Your… contact has arrived on planet.”
D’ shoots him a look.
“Thought he wasn’t due back until nightfall.”
“Well, apparently there’s been a change of plans.”
The edge of snark in Pilot’s voice is a very bad sign. That conversation must not have gone well.
“We, uh, we’re sort of doing some freelance work Pilot…”
He glances at D’Argo who shrugs.
“They’re expecting you in an arn. If you aren’t there, they’ll find another crew.”
Damn. John swears softly to himself. They need the cash. Moya’s been flying to the left for the last week and it’s been nearly a month since they ate anything that wasn’t chemical green. At least he hopes that the green on those last cubes was chemical. They were a little fuzzy.
“Okay, Pilot,” he sighs. “Gimmee the coordinates.”
“They’re expecting Peacekeepers, Commander.”
Does the big lobster have ESP? They didn’t say anything about Aeryn being on her own extracurricular activity.
“Um, Pilot,” D’Argo breaks in. “Do you think we could speak to Chiana?”
***
Chi has the pants in one hand, and reaches for Vala with the other.
“I don’t know whether this is the draddest thing ever, or some really frelled up joke.”
Vala is cradled in D’Argo’s arms, but that doesn’t seem to bother Chi much. The girl circles the couple, and reaches out, lightning quick and snags a thread of Vala’s hair, yanks. Vala yelps and wiggles in D’Argos arms. He puts her down instantly and she wobbles.
John rolls his eyes, grabs the pants and as Vala struggles for balance, there’s a thunk, and the tink of metal against concrete. The Aeryn lookalike sets her mouth, and opens her eyes with exaggerated innocence.
“One of my pins must have come loose.” She fumbles for the back of the toga.
They’ve lived with Chiana for nearly a cycle. Objects tumbling from clothing is rarely a good sign.
D’Argo picks her up gently, and they all watch as her booted feet attempt to kick something behind her.
John stops the object with an easy block, bends down and retrieves it. It’s D’Argo’s knife.
“All right,” he says, “before we dress you up and let you play with the big guns, what else have you got squirreled away in there?”
Vala plays the situation for what it is, bluffs her way through with an admirable bravado. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Chi laughs with delight and John rubs his mouth. It’s going to be one of those days.
***
"You're sure this is the place?"
Crichton puts his hands on his hips, taps his fingers against the low chandler which winks and twinkles sending prismatic color across the dark room.
"Cat said turn right at the naked chick, then left at the turkey stand. Far as I can tell, we did all that."
"This looks remarkably like a brothel. Is that a…"
"Looks like Shanghai in the '20's. Me so horny…wait, wrong stereotype."
Chiana ignores him, flows into the low sofa, hides a smirk as D'Argo tries to figure out how to sit down without crushing the couch, topping over or letting go of Vala. The woman takes the problem out of his hand, nimbling slipping free of his grasp and curling into the area near Chiana's thigh, careful not to put weight on her eema. D'Argo flops down in the tiny space left on the edge of the seat and Crichton sits opposite.
They settle in for the wait. After a small server brings them tea, Vala's eyes scan the tapestries. "That one's patently ridiculous. You'd need a far superior sort of bench for that kind of maneuver to be effective."
D'Argo's eyes widen as he scans the tapestry, his gaze slides hotly over Chiana and her new friend, and she takes mental notes.
"Now that one…" Vala gestures to a smaller silk rug curving in the corner. "That one works exactly as promised."
She grins, winks at Chiana, "I'm far more flexible than I appear..."
Chiana catches Crichton nodding distractedly and her opinion of Aeryn notches a little higher, though truth be told she still feels the universe has given them the raw end of the deal as far as all possible permutations of the woman seated on the settee across from them.
Maybe they could keep both; one for Crichton and one for her and D'Argo to share. She looks good with one arm draped over his thigh, and Chiana hopes the meeting goes smoothly enough that they can hang out for a while afterward, see if they can both fit on his lap.
"...I just need to be pissy and butch, right? Easily done."
Crichton sighs. "Let us do most of the talking, just try to look as cold and threatening as possible."
"But darling, I'm not looking to flirt with all *three* of you, here."
She winks at Chiana. "Besides, you're already taken."
She does make the effort when their contacts are spotted at the door, sitting up straight on her wounded cheek with a wince that she quickly puts away, and spreading her long limbs out on the settee to claim more space. Spookily, her expression suddenly matches Aeryn's game face, and John realizes that at some point in the rickshaw she must have wiped her face clean of makeup.
***
Aeryn sits in the transport, back straight, both feet on the ground. She's utterly still, and it's beginning to make Daniel nervous. Her long thigh is pressed against his because there's not enough room in the back of the conveyance for two people, and anyway he lost part of his disguise somewhere near the gate and Teal'c and Mitchell voted him most likely to ride with the pseudo-goddess although he didn't think that was quite fair because neither of them seemed all that afraid of her, or in fact particularly weirded out by her not-Valaness. Teal'c is driving, while Mitchell takes point in the back.
For Daniel's part, he's mostly unsettled by the woman's silence. Vala offers a continuum of talk, of nonsense and noise, particularly when she's bored. Aeryn just sits still.
"Um, that thing you're doing now. It might be a good idea to keep doing it. Once, we get to the meeting room."
Aeryn tilts her head towards him. "What is it that I'm doing?"
"Not talking. I think it's probably a good idea to continue doing that."
She tightens her mouth. "You're insane," she says, sounding vaguely ambushed. "Aren't you?"
"Nooo." He looks at himself. "Just… joined at the hip to a thief and a liar and deliberately misleading one false god with another for the prospect of information. But not insane. Technically."
She closes her eyes, breathes heavily through her nose.
"So, you want me to remain quiet. Even though I'm supposed to be a god?"
Daniel licks his lips. "Well, can you sound like Darth Vadar?"
She blinks. "I'm going to say no."
"Then yup, silence is probably best. Unless I give you a signal." He waits for her to ask what kind of signal. She doesn't.
"I think I will continue practicing."
She shuts her mouth, stares forward and Daniel wonders if he can become one with the rickshaw door.
***
The boss is recognizable, if shorter and more matronly than she appeared in the message. She's dressed in snowy white with a walking cane she doesn't need, stepping smoothly over a Hynerian who's rolled from his comfy pallet into the walkway to stand between the couches and look them over. Her lack of physical gravitas is made up by the sheer dark bulk of her bodyguards and the subtle way in which they seem to be satellites around her, staking out the corner of the den and sharply nodding an all-clear.
"Well. What a fine bunch of younglings you are. Won't you join me?"
With that she wanders off to one of the private rooms at the back of the joint, her entourage like a squadron of Marauders clearing the way for the Farscape.
***
Daniel and Teal'c flank her as they walk into the small temple. They have more experience with pseudo-Goa'uld and Mitchell's been sent to collect their ticket out, should something go wrong.
Aeryn has paced her walk, smoothing it out and while she's still not moving like lemonade and candy, her hips have taken on a decidedly hypnotic sway. Several followers, their arms full of flowers, kneel and gasp at the sight of her and Daniel feels that tickle at the back of his neck that tells him things aren't exactly what they seem. This far out in a city this populous, Quetesh should be a vague figure, a statue in a home or two, not an object of public devotion.
They murmur her name and Aeryn stops, stares at the people on the ground.
"God," Daniel whispers as reminder and she straightens her shoulders, raises her chin and walks past her followers. A tiny girl runs ahead, tossing rose petals at her feet. Aeryn looks at her sternly and the girl holds up a flower. Teal'c moves to intercept, looking gravely down at the girl.
"You may not approach unless given permission, little one."
The girl's eyes dart from Teal'c to "Quetesh". She holds the flower to him, and he takes it. "Go back to your mother." The girl darts forward quickly, tiny hand sliding over Aeryn's gold dress, then dashes back towards the entrance of the temple.
Teal'c offers Aeryn the flower, mouth twitching with amusement. She looks at it, takes it gingerly by the stem and holds it by her side.
At the end of the temple hallway, a set of carved doors suddenly fling open, and a small man in a blindingly orange suit steps out. Jewels wink on his fingers, and his hat needs its own zip code.
"Quetesh," he announces, voice vibrating with the Gou'ald double resonance. "You have come!! Welcome. We have much to discuss."
Aeryn continues to walk, brushing by the man with easy arrogance, entering the small room behind the door. Teal'c and Daniel follow, carefully ignoring the guards that stand point around the circular space.
***
There's a buffet laid out on a side table but no one partakes. The boss sinks down into a thick-cushioned chair, and John and Chiana sit across from her in two others. D'Argo steers Vala behind them to flank in a poor echo of the cordon of bodyguards arrayed around the boss, and peripherally John can see her strike a wide military stance, face toward the door and eyes all over the room. He edges their odds at pulling this off a little higher; maybe fifty percent. Good odds for them, better than they're used to.
"I'm sure you understand the delicate nature of this transaction."
The boss crosses her legs primly even though her feet don't reach the floor, but the rubber tip of her pimp cane screws into the soft carpet as she turns her wrist. "I have a great many sons who would gladly accomplish this task for a crumb of what I'm offering you. However..."
Chiana smirks at one of the Marauders. "You want the ability to cut your losses smaller than a narl of your own."
"It's not my intention to lose on this deal, I assure you."
"Then you found the right crew."
"As for particulars," the boss lays her cane across her upper knee, and a Marauder offers Chiana a datapad.
She hands it to John as if he were her own flunky. D'Argo reads over his shoulder, offering a grunt in opinion.
Vala snorts from behind John's other shoulder.
Now that she has everyone's attention she purses her lips against further amusement and gestures away from herself. "Sorry, do go on."
One thumb is tucked into her gunbelt but there's a non-Aeryn tilt to her hip and the hand she lays across her wide grin is self-indulgently graceful.
The boss's eyes have narrowed and tension reverberates through her entourage. It stills everyone else but provokes Vala to outright laughter. "No really, you can't be serious."
With finger and thumb, the boss turns her cane so the golden pommel glints in the light.
"This isn't half what a job like this goes for." Vala pulls the datapad from John's hand and tosses it, bouncing it off of a Marauder's chest. Her mirth has disappeared like the cable going out, her manner dismissive and bored. "Let's start again, on terms that aren't insulting to us both, shall we?"
The boss leans back, and another son offers another datapad directly to Vala.
John stands to join her but Chiana grabs his vest and murmurs into his ear, "Can we keep her? Pleeeeeeaase?" She licks the bare skin behind his ear and lets him go, and he tries to take back control of the negotiations but Vala's already read the offer and chucked the datapad aside with femme disdain.
"You have a high estimation of your worth." The boss speak directly to Vala. "We may yet do business, but I'm afraid I'll need some reassurance of the value of what I'm buying here."
Before they can stop her she's unholstered the prop pulse pistol they gave her, Chiana's edged halfway to the door and D'Argo has opened his Qualta blade to full-auto. In desperation John slaps his hand on her ass and takes advantage of the unconcealed wince to hiss, "What the hell are you doing?"
She turns to him, yanking her injury from under his palm and hissing back. "Giving a demonstration." She switches to a conversational tone, "Put one of those fruits on your head and stand against that wall."
***
"I am truly honored by your presence, Quetesh," Katar waves his hand, bows his head at the woman in the large elegant chair next to his. "But you have yet to answer my requests. If you won't grant me these favors, I don't see how I can possibly be of service to your other…" he glances at Teal'c and at Daniel "minions."
"We were summoned by you," Teal'c reminds Katar, his voice going dangerously low. "With an offer of information about the Orii. That is obviously of some interest to Quetesh."
Katar grins brightly, but his face goes blank at the mention of the Orii. " The Orii, um, of course. Yes, it's true. That's very true. I was hoping to be of… service… to my fellow god. I am but a minor deity in the grand scheme of things, and you are…" he gestures at her, eyes tracing her body. "But such devotion is usually… rewarded."
The small man's false smiles scrape against Teal'c's final nerve. Something here is very, very wrong.
"In fact," Katar continues, "I think perhaps Quetesh should remain here, alone, so that we can continue this conversation, without the distraction of…lesser beings."
Aeryn leans back and crosses one long leg over the other, exposing a pale thigh. "I don't think so," her voice black with derision. They're the first words she's spoken since they walked in. Katar freezes, mouth flapping open.
"But, I've been your devoted friend," he gives her a sly leer. "Your… confidant." His eyes flash to Daniel, darting like a rodent. "Dismiss them and we will discuss this transaction, together. Just the two of us."
It could have been the disgusted snort, could have been the aggressive gaze, but whatever the final straw that broke the nope she's not really a goddess any more than I'm a camel's back, it is now crushed into the dirt.
"It's a trap," Daniel says bitterly, sounding like he really should have been less surprised.
"Of course it is," Aeryn mutters, and her posture changes from deity to warrior, hand going down to her boot.
Katar sucks in his breath, loses the vibration, and hisses, "You're not Vala Mal Doran!"
"Um, no."
"Seize them!"
"Straight from the evil overlord handbook."
"Chapter one," Teal'c agrees.
The guards move forward, on of them seizing Aeryn up out of the chair. She barely struggles as they round on Daniel and Teal'c.
Katar raises his arm, face red with rage, aims his fist and light shoots from it. Aeryn leans, Daniel ducks, and Teal'c rolls his eyes. The wall explodes behind them.
In the frozen silence that follows, the woman who is not Vala Mal Doran says, "Frell this," and smashes her elbow into the throat of the guard holding her.
Before the guard hits the ground, Teal'c has raised the muzzle of his P-90 and put a round through the chest of the false god.
After this, the situation goes, as O'Neill would say, "all to hell".
Teal'c has noted on previous occasions that the elaborate stone carvings common to many temples provide optimal cover during a firefight, although Daniel Jackson has insisted that this does *not* in fact provide a satisfactory explanation for Tau'ri churches of the Gothic period.
Vala's double would seem to have the same instincts, and her smooth roll takes her behind the same broad pillar as Teal'c. Through the smoke and the sparks, he can see Daniel Jackson's zat being aimed around an ornate statue depicting the local deity engaged in an unidentifiable act with a small animal of some kind.
"Show me how this works," she says, hefting the staff weapon she took from the guard. Teal'c puts his hands over hers and activates it; at the first crackle and hum, she nods tightly, drops to one knee - gold fabric ripping as she does so - and fires.
Her first blast goes high, taking out a chunk of masonry from the bas relief above the door, but she adjusts her aim immediately and fires again - this time, with lethal accuracy.
He ducks around the other side of the pillar to fire another round, dropping two of the grey-robed guards. She rests the shaft of her weapon across a protruding basalt curlicue for balance, and fires three times in succession, calm and measured. With each blast, another guard crumples. She looks satisfied, comfortable for the first time since Daniel had finally persuaded her that she would have to go unarmed.
In recent years, Teal'c has come to accept that the P90 offers superior range and destructive firepower. But he was raised to believe that the staff weapon was the weapon of a true warrior, and at times such as these, he cannot deny a certain nostalgic regret.
In a momentary lull, Daniel Jackson's voice drifts across. "Okay, so, that didn't *quite* go according to plan."
The woman glances up at Teal'c and rolls her eyes in exasperation. "That constituted a plan?" she mouths. He raises a conceding eyebrow, feels a slight pang of disloyalty at their shared amusement. The Tau'ri are a noble and courageous people, yet their flippant speech had caused him a certain amount of puzzlement and dismay before he became accustomed to it.
Her next shots take out four of the guards.
He shoots five.
As the smoke begins to clear, he checks the perimeter of the room. The bolts on the inside of the door are heavy, but he doubts they would hold for long against a sustained attack.
"There would appear to be no other way out."
Daniel sighs. "Right, and there's a whole congregation out there who aren't going to be too happy that we just killed their god." He returns to the radio. "Mitchell, we could really use some back-up about now."
The woman is inspecting the staff weapon with a professional eye. "What sort of cartridges do you need for this?"
Before he can answer, the radio comes to life. "Wait up guys, just having a little parking problem out here."
"Less parking, more rescuing," Daniel shouts. "I don't think they're going to need that back wall anytime soon."
***
John growls low, "Frell *you*, lady."
She cuts off the argument by turning to the Marauders with a cheesy grin. "Which one of you boys would like to give me a piece?"
In a matter of microts a red and overripe binali is gamely tossed toward Vala, and with the tip of her tongue caught in her teeth she blows it out of midair like strategic defense against commie fruit.
The boss shrugs and sets her cane tip into the carpet.
The Moyans pause, pieces of binali strewn on them like sticky confetti.
"I've been looking to open this trade route for cycles now. Perhaps previous failures were due to an overabundance of discretion." The boss kicks her feet out to pull herself from the depths of the chair, as he Marauders close ranks around her and scout the hallway.
"Perhaps recklessness will succeed. We have a deal. The first payment will be loaded onto your pod with the cargo, and the balance will be provided by the recipients on Gifar. A pleasure."
The door closes and the pause continues until Chiana plucks a chunk of binali from her hair and pops it into her mouth with a giggle. D'Argo flops into a chair with a sigh and Vala announces, "You're welcome."
John follows her and yanks the pulse pistol from her hands. "There are *reasons* we didn't give you a cartridge!"
"Lucky for you I didn't agree with those reasons, isn't it?"
"She's got a point, John."
"She does not have a *point*, D'Argo. She has *Winona's* ammo."
"I thought her name was Aeryn."
"Aeryn's the girl, Winona's the gun."
"You named your *gun*?" Vala sauntered to the buffet table, chuckling. "And I thought Jaffa took it too far."
"You could have gotten us killed."
"Pshh." She tosses another binali to Chiana. "You've got a job and a tidy sum of currency, almost three times as much you would have gotten if I hadn't been here, I'm happy to add, and I'm equally happy to forgo my usual thirty percent cut and call it return favor for the first aid. Everyone's happy."
"Everyone could have just as easily been dead."
"And yet, despite your morbid paranoia," she cheerfully shrugs, eyebrows high and lips pursed, "no one here is actually dead."
"Pure luck."
"I don't much care for the luck the universe provides. I believe a girl who makes her own luck gets better quality luck overall."
And with that, she crumples to the carpet.
***
After a further muttered exchange, the sum of which seems to be Mitchell's doubt about the rickshaw actually being able to penetrate the wall, Daniel turns back to them, and points to the ceiling with one finger. "Roof."
A couple of staff blasts make a substantial hole in the painted wooden ceiling. When Teal'c lifts her up, she finds a handhold and easily pulls herself up and through, then turns round to hold out a hand for Daniel. Together, they find and secure a rope for Teal'c to haul himself up with.
Sneezing in the dust of the roof cavity, Daniel Jackson seems to feel the need to apologize. "Look, there was no way on earth we could have known -"
"On Earth?" she interrupts, sounding appalled. "You really are humans?"
Daniel stares back at her. "You're not?" Then, seized by thought, "Actually, that *would* explain why there haven't been any signs of entropic cascade failure, even if you did come through a quantum mirror. I mean, if there are subtle genetic differences that might preclude - "
She ignores him and falls behind with Teal'c as they make their way out onto the roof.
"Humans," she says, in tones of despair. "I should have known."
"*I* am not human, " he feels the need to point out. She nods, evidently unsurprised.
Outside, the tel'tak is hovering just above the temple roof, although irreparable damage may have been done to some of the gargoyles.
Mitchell, at the controls, is bright-eyed with happiness at having found another piece of "cool" new technology to fly.
"She didn't say they could fly," he shouts happily. "Seems like she could have mentioned it before I figured it out myself. But we're so not getting our deposit back on the rickshaw. I kind of… ran into it."
The small badge pinned to Aeryn's dress bleeps, and she taps it.
"Aeryn?" a deep familiar voice says. "Uh, Aeryn - we may have a small problem here."
***
Aeryn grips the staff and merely sways on her feet as Mitchell tilts the nose and accelerates away from the ruined temple with evasive curves through the city smog. Teal'c is amused to see someone dressed in the finery of a false god with such a Jaffa bearing. "What problem, John?"
Mitchell banks and burns, and the voice coming from her golden badge is drowned out by the sound of cargo breaking free in the compartment.
"Jackson, secure that--aw, hell--Teal'c--"
Teal'c is already there. He hands Daniel Jackson's glasses to the woman and lifts him from the deck. She bites one leg of the frames and offers both hands in assistance, ripping her skirt further and surprising Teal'c with her strength and gentleness as they lay him out on a bench.
"Aeryn? What's going on, there?"
"Vala will have also succumbed by now." Teal'c takes the glasses from her and folds them. "We must bring them in close proximity soon or both will die."
"Distributor cap. Frell."
She looks down at Jackson, bites her lower lip. The transport tilts up sliding them all towards the back and Teal'c growls.
"Sorry," Mitchell hollers. "Incoming!"
"John, are you anywhere near the pod?"
"Uh, no? Well, maybe. Dude, you're holding the map upside down. Gimmee that. Sorry, apparently it's hard to carry a passed out chick and get the directions right at the same time."
She starts to ask why D'Argo's carrying the map in the first place since he can't navigate his eema with both hands and a map half the time, but stops herself, figures she doesn't want to know, figures she's been spending far too much time with Crichton if the thought occurred to her in the first place.
"See, I was carrying her first because Chi decided enough was enough and because she stole my cartridge and D's a better shot, but then…"
"John, focus!!"
"Pod. Yeah, pretty close. Maybe. Sort of…. Ah frell. PK's, Aeryn!!"
Aeryn looks at Teal'c. "Can this thing break atmosphere?"
"Doubtful."
"John, we're coming to get you! I'll have Pilot get a fix on your signal."
"Oh shit, Aeryn, she's convulsing! There's…oh man, that is so gross, D'Argo do not wipe someone else's spit on me!!"
Jackson's limbs are flailing and Teal'c holds him down with as much care as he can muster while keeping the man from further injury.
"They need to be reunited immediately," he says.
Aeryn hits her com,"Pilot, can you triangulate off of me?"
She moves through the transport, wriggles into the cockpit, slaps her com down on Mitchell's console. "Pilot will use my signal to guide us to John."
"Forward about 500 metras, Aeryn, veer Hammond, go down the street, veer again. They should be somewhere near there."
She looks at Mitchell, his face a disconcerting familiarity. "What the hell was that?" he shouts over the roar of the transports engine.
"Aeryn, where the frell are you?" John's voice has that desperate tone that tears at her, makes her want to throttle him and lock him up for safe keeping. "She's dying!"
"Colonel Mitchell, Daniel Jackson is not doing well!" Teal'c's voice booms from behind her.
Mitchell snaps his jaw shut, head cocked.
Aeryn breathes carefully. "Straight, turn, down, turn, and forward."
"Colonel," Mitchell's own communications crackle to life. "There're soldiers at the gate, we can't get through. We need backup!!"
"Ah man," Mitchell says, sounding ridiculously happy even as he grimaces, shoots down the top of the street. "This is the life."
"Pilots," Aeryn mutters, and can't quite lose her own answering grin.
"Gonna have to drop you guys, come back later," Mitchell says over the roar of the engine. "Go offer some backup. I think this baby might even have some weaponry. Regardless, I gotta get my guys out of the way."
***
They're tucked up in the alley, John on point, Chi holding D'Argo's qualta blade as steady as she can, avoiding the PK's and panicking as the woman who looks far, far too much like Aeryn twitches in D'Argos arms, mouth foaming and then goes absolutely still. He knows it's not her, knows that whether or not he's gonna feel like crap if this woman dies, it isn't Aeryn, but somehow, the physicality is just a little too… much. It feels like a warning, like a flash back in reverse, foreshadowing of the worst kind.
D'Argo crouches and Chi holds his shoulder, slumping under the weight of the weapon. He takes Vala's hand and looks like he doesn't quite know what to say what to do.
The sound of helicopter blades whirring in the open space at the end of the alley startles all of them and the next thing John knows, a cross between a Blackhawk and a chicken hawk drops straight into the alley. A door opens in the side and a woman in gold jumps down to the ground, followed by a very large man holding some sort of bundle, ass first. It takes him a minute to process the gold girl as Aeryn.
She jogs forward, and the flying metal chicken moves straight up like a chopper as the big guy and the brown leather butt shuffle out of the way.
"God, you're a sight for soar eyes," he calls out, pushing out of his crouch and meeting her halfway.
"Teal'c," she points to the larger man. "Daniel Jackson." She pauses, "Also dying and foaming at the mouth."
"We put 'em together and get two great tastes that taste great together?"
Teal'c blinks, ignores John and makes his way to where D'Argo clutches Vala's limp body.
As soon as the two individuals come close enough, the color returns to Vala's cheeks. Jackson stops shaking and John breathes a sigh of relief.
"They will need plenty of fluids and time to rest," Teal'c says, squatting in the dirt next to the two, cradling Jackson's head in his big hand.
Chiana's face is awed, positively reverent. "Crichton, can we keep them all? Please, oh please."
Teal'c shoots her an amused look, raises an eyebrow.
John turns to Aeryn, takes another gander at the dress, at the rip that's crept all the way up to the top of her thigh.
"Deity," she says with a smirk.
"I'd worship you," John quirks his mouth and leans in, lips brushing against her cheek.
***
It doesn't take long to reach the pod, and amazingly enough their luck holds. Nothing blows up, no Peacekeepers or local authorities waylay them and while Aeryn may fervently long for her own clothing, the desire has nothing on the relief she feels at nearing the end of their association with this disquieting set of doubles.
They discuss their options as they make their way through the back alleys towards the pod.
"Your friend is picking up some other guys," John says, sussing out the situation.
"Colonel Mitchell is retrieving our backup, yes." Teal'c studiously avoids looking at John as he hefts Daniel Jackson up higher on his shoulder. "We will need to find a way to go back through the chap'ahai without being fired upon."
John glances at D'Argo, looks back at Aeryn. "Maybe we can help?"
Aeryn resists the urge to punch him. "Or perhaps we can offer you some water and shelter until these two are on their feet and then send them on their way."
Teal'c shrugs massive shoulders. "I'm certain we will find a way back. This planet is on the very fringe of our explored territory. Our gate lead first to a different planet. It was Vala's directions that brought us here through the second gate."
John tilts his head. "Gate?"
"Passages between worlds." Teal'c twitches his mouth. "They are not something we discuss ... with outsiders."
"Whatever." John looks grim, more than a little annoyed.
"One way or another, we should bring them back to Moya," Chiana's eyes are bright with avarice. "Let Zhaan see if they're okay. Give 'em some food and water."
"You have a physician?"
Aeryn catches John's eyes, ignores the way he's looking at her like they haven't done enough. She hates that look.
"Colonel Mitchell shouldn't be left to fend for himself."
"They have never been separated for this long, since they were… joined. I would prefer to have someone examine them, or at least monitor their responses until they awake. Colonel Mitchell will be… fine for the time being."
"You guys are military?"
Teal'c nods.
"Figures," John mutters.
***
Rygel is unimpressed, meeting them in the docking bay. When he sees the three visitors, he scowls. "No more mouths to feed!" He looks Teal'c up and down, spits on the ground. "That one looks like he could eat us out of ship and home!"
Zhaan takes their arrival with far more equanimity, seeing the injured and ushering them to the makeshift med bay. Leaving Teal'c to explain the situation since she barely comprehends what the problem is, Aeryn veers off to her quarters to find her own clothing. She trusts him enough to not pose a threat, but for safety's sake, she takes the staff weapon with her.
Still entranced by Teal'c and the humans, Chiana remains in the med bay with D'Argo, offering what observation and insight she can into what transpired when Vala collapsed. "One microt she was shooting binali out the sky, winning us a job, the next she was on the floor like a Jibrian trance dancer…"
A little surprised when John follows her out of the bay, Aeryn doesn't say anything as he keeps pace with her, stride shortened by the gold dress. He follows her into her quarters, swipes his hand over the door control and flops down in the chair in her quarters.
"Crichton." She doesn't bother to hide the irritation in her voice, and when he doesn't respond, finds the zip in the dress, lets it fall open and tugs it off. A move like that would generally provoke a reaction, but Crichton continues to sit there as she finds her own clothing and dresses quickly.
"Who are they?" he says finally, and there's an awful suspicion of hope in his voice. "That guy, whoever was flying that… thing that dropped you off. He was speaking English – not some weird translator version like Vala and the big dude, but English English. And he sounded a lot like… me."
"He was…," she says softly, and pulls open a drawer to find her spare holster. "Um, he's…."
"Quit waffling, Aeryn," he says, leaning forward, watching her steadily. "Who… are… they?"
She hadn't learned much from their brief adventure, hadn't asked much after the revelation that they were human. What little she had learned, she was more than reluctant to pass along to John. What incentive would he have, the tiny ugly voice whispered, to stay? He could leave, go back with them, return to the humans. Leave her behind. Her throat is tight when she looks at him, but they have nothing to offer each other but honesty.
"They're human," she says quietly, and turns away from him. "From Earth."
"You don't think it's someone fucking with us? Another Scarran? Another Maldis?"
She shakes her head. Nothing she saw, or heard, indicates anything more frelled than their usual run of surreal bad luck.
He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't get out of the chair either. The silence pulls tight and taut and finally she turns back, goes to stand in front of him. He reaches for her, hand curling around her hip, tugs her towards him. She raises her hand tentatively, lets it rest on the pale nape of his neck where the coat pulls away, where he's bare and vulnerable. He rubs his cheek against her belly and she allows the intimacy.
"Aeryn," her com chitters to life and Zhaan's calm voice floats through. "Our visitors are waking up."
"You should go speak to them," she says, soft and hoarse, and John uses her to leverage himself to standing.
"Yeah," he says. "I should."
***
It's the tea party of the damned in the med bay, everyone but Chiana clutching small metal cups, looking at each other like they're not quite sure which particular bit of protocol breaching will send the whole adventure tumbling off the rails.
Jackson is still prone, but Vala sits cross legged on the bed. With the absence of makeup, wearing Aeryn's clothes, she's a startling mirror of the woman behind him. Her mouth curves widely when he walks in though, and the wink at Aeryn erases the dizzying double vision. He'd lay odds on Aeryn's expression being way less friendly.
"You know, you maybe shoulda warned us about the passing out and drooling thing," he chastises.
Vala shrugs. "I didn't know if it would happen or not. Besides, it looks like everything's turned out splendidly."
She glances around the ship. "New friends, lots of shiny baubles, and tea that doesn't taste like it's been strained through someone's old socks."
Teal'c's voice is wry. "She recovers quickly."
Jackson opens his eyes at that, and gives a short squeal of surprise upon seeing John. He flounders to sitting, takes in his surroundings, and his eyes widen.
"Oh, don't worry darling," Vala offers, falsely soothing and ridiculously chipper, "they're friends. Or at least, I don't think they're going to shoot you. There's always that."
Teal'c stands, hands Jackson his glasses and Crichton makes his way to the higher bed, perching on the edge of it next to Vala.
Scanning back and forth between Teal'c and Vala, his eyes occasionally dropping to rest on John, he fights for coherency. "Is he… doesn't he…"
Vala laughs, "Isn't it fun?"
Jackson thunks his head back into the pillow.
"It gets better," she says, and reaches back, grabbing her pillow and lobbing it at the prostrate man. "This ship is alive." She points to Zhaan, "She's plant based." She gestures over to D'Argo, "And he can knock things out with his tongue." Vala cocks her head, grins slyly at Chiana. "I do wish we had time to explore that further."
"It's worth the effort," Chiana agrees vigorously, "Although sometimes he's shy."
Daniel stares at both of them.
"What?" Vala shrugs. "You take bloody forever to wake up and I had to entertain myself somehow. And Muscles refused to give them a naughty puppet show and ease my pain."
John holds his hands in his face, shaking his head. He directs his question to Jackson. "You feeling okay, ready to go back down to the planet?"
Jackson gives John a long assessing look. "Our… friend… is holding off who knows how many forces by himself in what appeared to be a toy helicopter, so we should probably be returning to offer him some… assistance."
"If it's any consolation," Aeryn offers, voice low and throaty and a little amused despite herself. "He seemed to be having a very good time."
"I'm sure," Jackson grouses. Then sits up quickly, and points sharply at Vala. "You… It was a set up… they wanted…."
Vala bites her lip. " Small man? Penchant for very large hats?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Didn't actually know anything about the Orii?"
"Mmm hmmm."
"Perhaps I misinterpreted the transmission just a teeny, weensy bit?" she squeezes her fingers together in a pinching motion, scrunches her face.
"But no real harm done, wouldn't you say?"
Daniel narrows his eyes. "No. No, I wouldn't. The most I can say is that whatever you intended to get here, you probably didn't. That might be consolation if it didn't give me nightmares to think about what you might have been after."
"Who says I didn't?"
Daniel's strangled garble muffle any potential words.
Aeryn comes to his rescue. "If it helps, she was shot in the arse."
Jackson shuts his mouth with a snap, purses his lips in a grin matched by Teal'c's snigger. Vala tosses her hair. "And it's going to need tending to once we return," she adds breezily. "I'm sure I won't have any trouble rounding up volunteers to help."
Finishing with her tea, Zhaan collects the cups, and stops near John. She touches his cheek as he gazes at their odd visitors, tilts her head towards Jackson, then towards the scanner.
"Yeah," he answers softly. "I know."
Aeryn's been holding the staff weapon since she entered the bay. Now she uses it to gesture towards the others. "John needs to speak with them," she says. It's a command, not an interjection. D'Argo catches her eye, nods and wraps a hand around Chiana's arm, tugging at her as she gazes longingly at the aliens.
"I'm going to prepare the pod," she announces, looking sharply at Vala and Teal'c, "and ready my prowler, in case other defenses prove necessary."
She narrows her eyes at Vala, scanning up and down her body. "And I want my clothing back," she mutters before shepherding the rest out of the bay.
"So," she hears John say with a sigh as she leaves, "You guys ever heard of the Farscape project? Or a guy named John Crichton."
***
The goodbyes are swift, Vala having convinced Teal'c that carrying her would be better than the alternative. She'd changed into the dress, exploring the slit in the thigh and lamenting the loss of her corset.
"It was my favorite shirt," she pouts prettily. "Good luck with the space piracy." She winks at Chiana. "Better luck with that tongue thing. If I ever find my way back, I promise a tag team effort."
Rendered incoherent at the image, D'Argo leans forward, kisses her cheek and she grins unrepentantly. "I've never experimented with tentacles," she says longingly, and grunts as Teal'c hoists her a little higher and Jackson shakes his head, then catches Crichton's eye.
"You're sure you won't come with us?" he says to John.
He nods. "Different slip stream, different universe. And I'd rather be… here… for now. But if you ever run into Jack Crichton…" he lets the words hang, not sure what to say. How much comfort can be passed along to a man whose son exploded into fiery bits over the Atlantic?
Jackson holds out his hand, accepts the handshake.
John taps his comm. "Aeryn, they're ready when you are."
***
It's chocolate pudding night, which is a poor substitute for Jello, but a damn site better than those gritty sausage fritters they'd been eating for two days on PZ457-980. Best of all, he was eating the pudding in good old American cotton, the leathers packed away into the back of the closet.
"He really looked just like me?" Mitchell sounds far too intrigued, even to his own ears. "Damn, always wanted a clone. Especially when I was playing desk jockey – someone to go to the DMV for you, to answer phone calls and talk to scary exes and to call your cousins on their birthdays."
Vala slowly licks the pudding off the spoon, pink tongue a delicate, deliberate tease. "Too bad he didn't want to come back with us," she says with a wink. "It would have been quite the scientific study to see just how similar you are."
Daniel groans, drops his head.
"I'm simply saying that certain curiosities should be study, examined, fondled…" she continues, shrugging her shoulders.
"You don't believe that we could have found his timeline?" Teal'c asks thoughtfully, and Daniel shrugs. "We don't have any kind of signal or address. We'd have had to keep trying, and he would have been stuck here while we did it. It could have taken years, and we really don't have the time to devote to that, not with things… as they are."
"Too bad, man," Mitchell says softly, and Teal'c raises an eyebrow, nods. "It must suck to be lost in the universe."
"He has friends," Vala says, emphasizing the word, deliberately scraping the rest of the pudding out of the glass cup, not looking around. "People who care what happens to him. He'll be all right."
***
There's only a little bit of raslak left, and she tilts the container, pours it into John's cup figuring that having a chance to return home snatched from your fingertips trumps putting up with an oversexed, overly made up, lecherous, thieving version of your double for a day.
"She stole my vest," Aeryn says sourly, and John slugs back the raslak, puts down the cup and brushes his fingers over the back of her wrist. "I liked that vest."
He strokes over her knuckles, absent and careful, thumb resting on her wristbone. "They must think I'm dead," he says, sounding infinitely weary. "I mean they're hoping I'm not, I bet. No body, no debris. DK will have calculated all sorts of odds, maybe even mentioned wormholes. But mostly, they'll think I'm dead."
There isn't anything she can add to that, but she turns her hand over, wraps her fingers around his wrist, squeezes gently. He looks up at her, eyes dark, a little lost.
"Chiana was all for a trade," she muses, wry, seeking a distraction for him. He's talked this topic out, and there's nothing left to say. She isn't sorry he stayed. But she wouldn't have wished this unhappiness on him, either.
His mouth twitches at that. "Would be quite the combination – those two against the UT's. We'd be the Robin Hoods of the universe, robbing from everyone to decorate Moya. We'd be hunted, but damn we'd be popular."
It's the first smile she's seen from him since the humans left, and she's absurdly pleased at his returning humor.
She stands up, walks to the other side of the table and leans down, voice a throaty whisper. "I might have kept her shirt," she breaths, "as a souvenir."
She saunters out of the mess, and grins to herself when halfway down the hall she hears the slap of boots against flooring, microts later feels the bump of his hip against hers.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 07:33 am (UTC)::flails and bounces with happiness::
Oh, so much fun! All sorts of marvelous lines! Vala and Chiana scheming about D'Argo! Daniel squeaking when he wakes up and sees John! Teal'c impressing Aeryn and being impressed by her! Aeryn in the dress! Vala stealing Winona's oil cartridge! Mitchell having a great time fighting the bad guys!
Oh, this is so, so, so much fun. Spotted with cute little insights and an actual plot! Two plots, in fact!
I have the best birthday present ever!
thank you all! Mwah!
::throws confetti::
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 08:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 02:56 pm (UTC)see, I told you there would be squeeing and bouncing.
*bg*
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-06 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 03:57 pm (UTC)Riotously funny crossover. Each character convincing in their reactions to the others. It is amazing that the subject of doppelgangers which made for such angst in Farscape can also be the source of such wonderful comedy.
Thank you for brightening my miserable day.
Samantha
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:30 pm (UTC)part 1 & 2: crackfic-o-joy.
Date: 2006-03-04 01:51 pm (UTC)ps. there are so many perfect quotes that if i start pasting them in this comment will be far too long. ;)
Re: part 1 & 2: crackfic-o-joy.
Date: 2006-03-04 06:29 pm (UTC)Re: part 1 & 2: crackfic-o-joy.
Date: 2006-03-04 10:11 pm (UTC)the whole thing made me smile hugely. and giggle a lot. and think about time slipstreams. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 07:44 pm (UTC)Oh, and Teal'c pointing out that he is NOT human, thank you very much. Heh.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 08:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 08:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 12:11 am (UTC)Love this bit in a wonderful, over-sexed Vala meets over-sexed Farscape-in-general way:
They look... odd that close and she presses down on the rucked-up flesh, fingers leaving a faint pink mark. She presses down again, less pressure this time and they jiggle. She presses once more, lightly and watches in astonishment as they... bounce in their containment.
Loved the WHOLE THING. *glee* *ignores the spoilery references to clones*
*glee glee glee*
no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 08:04 am (UTC)And dude, how far have you gotten in Season 2? You will soon realize that nothing we could come up with could rival the real crack of the show:) Even when it comes to something like this:)
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Date: 2006-03-05 08:17 am (UTC)Damn, knew I must have missed something. But this is an s2 fic, so that's only an itty-bitty spoiler referring to a single one-off ep. Your mind is still mostly unsullied *g*.
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Date: 2006-03-05 01:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 03:25 pm (UTC)And the ending was gorgeous. The fic read like an episode... crazy and funny and fabulous, and then with a shift in tone in the tag when you realise the real implications. Poor John. Lovely work, everyone.:)
(Also, hope it's okay that I've friended you. Recently became obsessed with FS and discovered your fic and... Wow. Owe you loads of feedback. You're an incredible writer.:))
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Date: 2006-03-06 05:33 pm (UTC)And so very glad you liked the crack!fic. We all had a marvelous time writing it!
:)
Date: 2006-03-19 11:45 pm (UTC)I hoped you all had as much fun writing it as I did reading it.
Re: :)
Date: 2006-03-20 03:52 am (UTC)Thanks for the feedback!!
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Date: 2006-03-30 09:49 pm (UTC)*claps*
Bravo! Author! Author! *whistles*
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Date: 2006-03-30 09:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-05 02:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-05 04:49 pm (UTC)