Work Text:
Count To Ten
By Giton
Aarggh! It was all so frustrating! Bialar Crais raised his hands up and balled them into fists. Crichton was driving him to distraction and he was ON his ship! Solar-day after solar-day. Frustrating him. Driving him slowly insane. And he couldn't swear at him. He couldn't profane. Not even in his own mind! He had switched the transponder to privacy-mode, so Talyn wouldn't hear his thoughts. Just in case he managed to do it, just once, but even in his own mind he couldn't swear! He tried, by Cholok, he had tried. "That f... f... fr... fr...," he nearly choked, he gasped for air, he couldn't do it! Mentally and physically he shook his fists in the air and became more frustrated. Now he felt how a stutterer must feel when he was stuck on words. He could try until he was blue in the face but try as he might not a fr... word came out.
It was all his own fault, if one could call it a fault. As a child he was not subjected to swearing, so he did not do it then. When he and Tauvo were taken by the Peacekeepers he heard the swearwords and the curses thrown at them from the minute they had stepped on board and he remembered the humiliation that was intended with it. He did not like it and wanted to protect Tauvo from it as well. He swore to keep it from him and Tauvo. When the thought entered his mind that the only way he could protect Tauvo was to become someone in charge he had consciously made the effort not to swear. Not in front of his sub-ordinates nor in front of his superiors and certainly not in front of the "inferior" species. After his escape on Talyn he refused to do it because Talyn didn't need to be subjected to it. Now, he couldn't do it.
And what was the Jhoo-man happily doing on his ship? Recreating wherever he thought it was suitable, not even bothered by the fact that he and Talyn were able to see it all. Even trying to leave Aeryn and Crichton alone and not watch it was not really an option. System-checks had to be run sometimes. And then to find him happily recreating with the woman he... respected. No, be truthful, loved... At least couldn't they just keep it to their own quarter? At least he could make a conscious effort not to drop in and Talyn was by now grasping the concept of "privacy", well, up to a point anyway. No, they had to do it in the cargo-hold, in the corridors, up the bulk-heads... The thought alone made his blood boil to fever-pitch!
And then swearing and cursing whenever he felt like it. Whether he dropped something, used the wrong tool, was unhappy or happy. Arn after Arn! Crais believed it wouldn't be too long before Talyn saw it as normality. Up till now he had been able to explain to Talyn that it was not the right manner but how long before Talyn would do it. Had the Jhoo-man no understanding? Talyn was only a youngster, by Cholok!
He paced his room furiously. His mood darkening by the moment. He was clenching and unclenching his hands as if he had Crichton's neck in them. A silly, almost insane grin appeared on his face. He didn't even know he was doing it. He had promised not to be too sarcastic to Crichton, at least show some courtesy. Not that he got any back, Crichton was set to draw him out every time he saw him or spoke to him. And Crais wanted to yell at him, shout abuse at him and knew he couldn't do it. The result of trying would be a spluttering, babbling... person. And he was not going to show the weakness of his frustration to that... that... Jhoo-man!
No, he couldn't do it. He could only do what he had been doing, unsatisfactorily so if he had to be honest, since the Jhoo-man came on board his ship to rein in his rage. Count to ten.
"One... Two... Three..."
THE END
Copyright 2002 GitonCrais