about 6 months after Fractures John, Aeryn and a hotel room, you
will have to read it to find out more. This is my VERY first time
writing, be kind or be ruthless!
up to Fractures
His voice was soft, teasing.
"Yes, I like"
Frell, she was going to give in, he knew it, she knew it.
He had listened
to his twin. He had allowed her the time she so desperately needed.
Time to grieve, time to come to terms with her emotions. Never
infringing on it, never overstepping the line that she had unconsciously
drawn. Until now.
Half a cycle
had passed along with the other John. The one she had opened up
to. The one she had shared so much with. This John, the one smiling
in front of her had paid the price for the other dying. And yet,
he had never complained, never pushed. He did what he had always
done. Wore her down slowly, chipping away patiently at the shell
she had cocooned herself in.
know exactly when it had happened. When she finally realised that
John Crichton was not dead. Maybe it was one of the many conversations
they had had. She had opened to him again, shared her emotions,
not her body though, never her body. Until now.
He had brought
her here blindfolded; she still held the soft material in her
hand. The room was small. The bed wasn't. It was covered in petals
of some kind, which were also scattered on the floor. The scent?
Intoxicating. Beside the bed sat small bottles of what she could
only assume would be Raslack.
"How did you...?"
Her question was cut off when she felt his arm around her waist,
his voice tickling her ear. She stifled a gasp. The touch was
so familiar, so electric.
of your friends and mine. They thought we deserved a break. My
idea, their help." He didn't move. Just stood relishing the
closeness. Waiting for her to push him away. Waiting for the rejection.
Usually at this point it would come, as it had so many times in
the past. Until now.
Her mind drifted
back. John Crichton, centre of her universe. Dead. Alive. Indifferent.
He had brought her back from the brink. Brought her back to his
world and hers. She understood now why he talked so much. It solved
many things. Patience and understanding - how did he do it? When
he had hurt as much as she did? How was he able to survive? He
had enough love for both of them, he could survive if she wanted
too, he could wait, if there was something to wait for - his words,
not hers. In the beginning there wasn't, she wanted to stay away
from him. She wanted to run. Until now.
his arm with her hands. He mistook it as a sign and released her
from his hold. He was surprised when she grabbed his arm and put
it back in the same position. She surprised him more when she
took the lead. She moved to the bed, him in tow. She twisted to
face him, turning him so that his back was to the bed. She walked
him backwards until he was forced to sit. John Crichton, chatterbox
of the galaxy, suddenly lost for words. He looked up at her, eyes
showing a multitude of emotion. He didn't move, didn't dare. He
knew, as she did, this was his idea, but it had to be her decision.
"Am I lost
Aeryn?" Those words filtered back into her mind. Ahh that was
when she realised that John Crichton was indeed alive. That he
knew what she had been through. He had witnessed her death, had
attended her funeral, and had lived with the guilt. Those words
had made her understand. Fate had brought them together, blew
them apart, and then brought them back. Fate had given them both
the chance to experience life without the other. She didn't want
to ever experience that again.
He was looking
at her now. Hesitant yet quizzical. He opened his mouth to say
- what? She knew; he was going to ask if this was what she wanted.
She silenced him with a finger to his lips. He smiled, still not
knowing the answer but content to wait. Trusting her completely.
She replaced the finger with her mouth. It was a slow, teasing
kiss. She had dreamed of this moment, dreamed of it and feared
it. Never, acting on it. Until now.
She drew back
from him, looking at the man she loved so deeply. She smiled when
he moved forward trying to recapture the kiss. Not pushing though,
never pushing. He opened his eyes. Chewed on his lip. Crystal
blue eyes watching, waiting, anticipating.
him back onto the bed. "I love you John Crichton." Such a simple
statement, one said so many times in the past. But not to him.
Never to him. Until now.
She was rewarded
with a brilliant smile. "I love you Aeryn Sun, always have,
why don't you show me just how much?" That stunned him. She
tilted her head looking at him. Yes, he wanted this to be on
her terms and it was. But she had to let him make the moves. She
knew his body, knew what he liked, and knew what to do. She couldn't
show him though; she had laid that ghost to rest.
you say Ma'am." He slowly moved her so that she was under him.
He looked down at her, leaning forward so that his nose brushed
hers. He peppered her face with small kisses then stopped. She
opened her eyes looking at him. "A...Aeryn you are...."
let him finish. "I didn't think I was, until now..." she put her
arms around his neck, linking her fingers and pulled him down.