SquidgeWorld Archive

The Switch 19: The Only Way
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
* * * * *

He woke happy and in a state of bliss just to be holding Aeryn in his arms. She stirred against his chest as he kissed her gently. His hands stroking her through the luxuriant hair as she raised her head and fell headlong into those beautiful pools of blue.

"Hey."

She smiled back at him. "Hey."

The kisses homed in on her lips and moved slowly against each other, enjoying the warmth and luxury of being in each others arms. Hands gently touching, caressing, while tongues tasted each other and a slow lazy passion built up and demanded satisfaction. They made love slowly. Nothing rushed or fierce. Everything so gentle, so loving, that their hearts merged before ever their bodies did. A divine dance binding them even closer. She held him so lovingly as he came deep inside her, her own orgasm only a shade after his. His arms cradling her afterwards, soft words murmured in her ear which went straight to her heart to lodge there forever. She was so deliriously happy. Had never thought the joining of two people could be so perfect. Yet she sensed that Crichton had always known it would be this way. His calm acceptance of everything she was, the way his heart just opened up and took her in, claimed her in ways too numerous to count. Too beautiful to share with others. This was private. This was for them alone. She knew she loved him so utterly that the realisation made every cell in her body celebrate. He was hers and she was his. Aeryn had found her one true home in her lover's arms.

It was like dying when he stirred and gently kissed the top of her head. Explained that he had to get up and relieve D'Argo. She smiled for him and he sailed the curve of her lips with his own craft, eliciting a moan of contentment from harsh planes softened with love and pliable with the taste of him still on her lips. They got up and showered together then became brisk and organised. Crichton opened the door and smiled at the DRD. Artoo waved his lightstalks at him, noticed he appeared unharmed and beeped at him. Crichton grinned back.

"Better than alright, Artoo."

The little droid spun round once, an action that made the human laugh with joy as if the little biomechanoid was sharing his happiness. Aeryn finished doing up her leather jerkin and looked round him to see what he was laughing at. When she saw the droid she smiled. "They are not sentient, John." She whispered softly in his ear. Her voice teasing him.

He smiled and winked at the droid. "Whatever you say, Aeryn."

* * * * *

Rygel was surprised and relieved to find Chiana in the mess hall. Alone. No D'Argo. No baby. Just the Nebari girl and himself. He relaxed just a little. The Dominar guided his thronesled over to the table where she was sitting with a lopsided and thoughtful smile on her face.

"Hello, Chiana. How are you?"

She smiled at him. "Hey, frog boy, I feel great - you know?"

He did not know but he was not about to tell her that. "How is D'Argo?"

Her soft smile widened with remembered pleasure. "Oh D'Argo is *just* fine, Ryge."

Rygel left her to get some crackers then came back with a plate half stacked and sat opposite her so he could watch her face carefully. He masked his concern by eating. "No problems?" He asked softly.

"No, no problems." What he said penetrated through her haze and focus sharpened in her eyes. A hint of suspicion rising from deep waters to pin him. "What are you up to?"

He looked hurt. "Up to? Me? I was just concerned for you, that's all."

She shook her head. "No, there's something else. Spit it out!"

A sad look flitted across his face and then a veil of anger was drawn over his emotions. "Forget I asked."

Picking up his plate he spun round and left the mess hall. Chiana watched him go, a frown settling on her face. Sorry she had upset him but even sorrier that she had no idea what he was really thinking. Was it possible he really had been worried about her?

* * * * *

Crichton made his way to command, Aeryn went to see Pilot and bring him up to date. She knew he worried about all of them but she had a special bond with him. One that was as precious to her in its' way as her feelings for Crichton. She smiled as she thought about him.

In command, Crichton noticed he was the only one there. He glanced around. No D'Argo. "Hey, Pilot, I'm not late am I?"

A quizzical note entered Pilot's vocabulary. "Late, Commander?"

"Yeah, late, as in *not on time to relieve D'Argo*. Late."

"No, you are not late."

"That's what I thought," He murmured to himself looking around. Nope, he was alone alright. He gave a little sigh and assumed that D'Argo had Pilot tell him when he was coming so he could make himself scarce. He understood how awkward this was going to be for them both but they would work it out. They always did. He checked with Moya that all was well, went over the controls to see if there was anything interesting outside. Nope. Same old Uncharted Territories all around them as far as a leviathan could fly and perhaps further. It was like being lost in the Gobi desert except they carried their own water. Their own supplies. Had each other for company. Each other. Aeryn. He grinned, happy as a loon. Chiana watched him from the doorway, knew the instant her eye fell on him that he was feeling as happy as she was. It made her want to cry with the sweet joy of it.He did not hear her, did not turn until her hands slid around his waist and her head rested on his shoulder. "Hi, old man. Want some company?"

He turned and looked at her. "How's things with you and the big guy?"

Her smile was beautiful. Released from her soul in radiant hues that touched him and added to his own happiness. "Couldn't be better."

"I'm glad, Chi," He said softly, touching her cheek gently. She knew he meant it. His words, his presence precious to her. He was always thinking of others.

"What about you?"

His mouth dropped in a silent cry of joy. His expressive face had already told her the answer but she wanted the pleasure of watching the range of emotions play across that beautiful sensitive face so that she would know it was true. If anyone could tame the fierce aggressive spirit of Aeryn Sun it was the infinitely patient love of John Crichton. But she had to be sure. Only when she was sure he really was utterly and truly happy would her own joy be complete. "Yeah, I'm happy Pip, and what's more important so is Aeryn." He broke off, struggling for the right words.

Chiana took pity on him and kissed his cheek. "It's okay old man, that's all I wanted to know. If you're happy, I'm happy."

His eyes fixed on hers for a moment, totally serious. "Always Pip. And thanks."

She nodded, smiled, then with a slow rock of her hips she was gone again. For a moment Crichton was lost in thought. Something bumping into his shoe made him look down. It was Artoo. He smiled and hunkered down, his look thoughtful. "Okay Artoo, what's up?"

The DRD chittered away at him, his lightstalks fixed on the human's face, little mournful sounds peppering the beeps and clicks of the DRDs vocabulary.

"You're upset?"

The little DRD warbled back and rolled back and forth once. Yes.

"Okay. What about? The loss of the others?"

Another single roll back and forth, the lightstalks getting more agitated.

"I'm gonna see what I can do about that, Artoo."

The chittering ceased, the lightstalks steadied and regarded him. Crichton realised Artoo missed the others. In his own biomechanoid way, he was grieving. Crichton put a gentle hand on his casing. "What about Blue? Did he make it?"

The DRD was mournful, lightstalks drooping. Crichton felt sick. He had become used to having the little DRD around. "Do you know where he is?" He did not like to refer to the pieces as *remains*.

Artoo rolled back and forth once, a slow reluctant yes.

"Would you take me there, Artoo?"

The lightstalks lifted and regarded him for a longer time. At last he decided it would be alright and turned and rolled out of command. It was time for Aeryn to relieve him in command anyway. Crichton told Pilot what he was doing and Pilot confirmed that Aeryn was on her way to take the next watch. He followed Artoo out and down the corridor. They descended tier by tier until they came to the very bowels of the ship. As they did so Crichton saw more and more bits and pieces of DRD littering the corridors. He picked up as many of the pieces as he could carry. Artoo at last brought him to the aortic chamber. He felt the familiarity hit him like a ton of bricks. He hesitated. Artoo chittered up at him, sounding impatient. Crichton nodded. "Okay, Artoo, I hear you."

He followed the DRD inside the chamber and stopped dead. His jaw slackened in shock. The inside of the chamber was full of broken pieces of DRD, bits of shell casing and mangled interiors. Shattered lightstalks, some blinking fitfully even though they were no longer attached to their shells. It upset him. He looked at Artoo. "Where's Blue?"

His voice had not risen above a whisper but Artoo had heard him. He moved among the mangled wreckage and dragged out the inert Blue, scorch marks on his shell. The damaged lightstalk now completely broken off halfway down. Crichton swallowed and gently took the DRD up in his hands. He turned what was left of Blue over in his hands and sucked in a pained sigh. Artoo watched him expectently. At last he looked at the DRD, his mind made up. "Artoo, I want you to do something for me."

Artoo trilled back at him.

"I want you to round up as many of the remaining DRDs as Moya can spare and have them collect every bit of shell and carapace, light stalk and inards they can find and bring them here."

The DRD did not question him but spun round and skittered away. If Crichton did not know better he would have sworn he had hurried off with the biomechanoid equivalent of hope in his servos. Crichton looked at the sorry state of Blue. "I'm sorry, Blue. I'll make it up to you if I can."

There was no response. No beep or bright chittering of understanding. Nothing. Crichton created a space for himself among the debris and sat on the padded floor of the aortic chamber, his fingers gently prying the burnt casing apart to force the seal open. All the while he kept up a patter of conversation to keep Moya and Pilot informed of what he was doing while part of him hoped and prayed that he would find a way to restore Blue. Without being asked Moya raised the temperature for the sake of the human, a faint calming hum running through the chamber and comforting Crichton so that he could work without getting too emotional. On some level Moya knew he identified with them and that made her care for him more deeply. Unaware of her concern he laboured for arns, the remaining DRDs quietly bringing him more pieces of their fallen comrades. As they ran out of debris more and more of them gathered quietly to watch him work, eager to help when asked. He appreciated their presence, thanked them for helping and puzzled over how he could restore function to a unit that had been so fried it had hardly any of its' original circuitry intact. He sighed and decided to appeal to a higher power.

"Hey Pilot?"

"Yes, John?"

"Can you ask Moya how I can rebuild the DRDs so that they retain their individual personalities?"

Pilot sounded puzzled. "Personalities?"

"Yeah, you know, the qualities that distinguish one DRD from another."

"They are units of Moya."

"I know, Pilot, and I mean no disrespect to the boss but these little guys *are* individuals. Trust me. They act as such and I like that, want to preserve the differences that make each one of them unique."

Pilot was baffled. Wondered why anyone would want to do that. "I appreciate you caring, John, but they are droids. Designed to be interchangable not unique. I would suggest if any of the droids have shown such qualities it is because of their exposure to you."

Crichton laughed then tried to be serious, not wanting to offend Pilot or have Moya lock him up as insane. "Are you saying the DRDs have been irreversibly contaminated, Pilot?"

"Not all of them, just one or two Commander."

He had to fight not to laugh again. Pilot sounded so frelling serious. He cleared his throat. "Then I'll take that as a compliment. Give my regards to Moya and ask her if there's any way I can restore them to their former condition."

* * * * *

Aeryn Sun listened to the conversation between Pilot and Crichton, a bemused smile on her face. She reached out and touched one of Pilot's triple clawed hands. He paused and looked at her. "Keep an eye on him, Pilot."

He inclined his head. "Yes, Aeryn."

"I'm going back to command."

Pilot nodded and got back to his tasks. Aeryn could not imagine how Crichton intended to put the droids back together again. It seemed a pointless exercise to her but then much that passed for intelligence in humans was a mystery to her.

* * * * *

It took him almost three days. Three days in which he did not stir from the aortic chamber. Aeryn had considered going over to the chamber and dragging him out but Pilot had assured her he was alright. The DRDs had been ferrying food to him and Moya had kept him warm. Crichton was like a child with a jigsaw puzzle, too stubborn to leave it alone until he had made all the pieces fit. With the help of Moya he had discovered how to rebuild the intricate circuits, how to connect each one and copy the pathways that distinguished one from the other. He had no idea how he did this or where the inspiration came from but he was willing to take help from any source that would do the job. At last his patience and perseverence paid off. Trying to hide a yawn he activated Blue and could not help whooping with joy when the resored lightstalks lit up and he began to chitter excitedly at him. Artoo joined in, the other DRDs rocking back and forth as if joining in. It made Crichton feel good. He had only been able to restore just over fifty DRDs. Fifty out of 187. The loss still made him wince but saving some was better than saving none.

He rubbed at the charred surface of Blue's carapace idly thinking about the best way to clean off the scorch marks. The little DRD raised the good lightstalk and focused on him. Crichton became suddenly serious. He looked for a microt at Blue then slowly looked at all the DRDs crowded into Moya's aortic chamber. "I owe you guys a lot. If you hadn't come to my defence I don't know what would have happened. I want you to know I appreciate it and if there is ever anything I can do for you guys just let me know."

Artoo burbled something at him. Crichton had no idea what he had said. "Pilot! Did you catch what Artoo said?"

"He is telling you that you are welcome."

The simple modest response warmed Crichton's heart. He thanked them again and got stiffly to his feet. "Time this southern boy hit the hay. Aeryn's been real patient but I don't think another solar day apart is going to go down too well."

The DRD's parted to let him out and as he walked stiffly down the corridors back to his own quarters, Blue and Artoo trailed along behind him, their lightstalks waving at each other as they conversed in binary code like a couple of teenage friends. The other DRDs split up and went about their assorted duties. Within microts Moya's aortic chamber was quiet again. Empty and able to fulfill its' original function without any distractions. For some fathomless reason, Moya missed them.



END