Work Text:
TITLE: Dereliction of Duty
AUTHOR: Shrift
PAIRING: John/D'Argo
RATING: PG-13 for m/m slash stuff, language. I couldn't get them to have sex in public. Sorry. I've got a slightly prudish D'Argo muse.
SERIES: My submission to the Out-of-Context fic challenge, quotes available at:
http://www.quantumslip.com/quote/
SPOILERS: Generic season two
SUMMARY: John and D'Argo get into trouble.
DISCLAIMER: Raise your hand if you think I own them and not Henson/Nine Networks et al. Bueller' Bueller' And I still eat Ramen out of necessity, so keep the C&D in yer pants.
ARCHIVE: Yes to FSA and WWOMB
FEEDBACK: darth_shrift@yahoo.com to enable the feedback slut
NOTES: For Toni, because she needed a slash fix and I went to the grocery store yesterday, so there's plenty
of food and plenty of beer and that *always* puts me in a good mood.
DERELICTION OF DUTY
By Shrift
"Hey, D'Argo, wasn't it our turn to get supplies at the *last* commerce planet?" John said, sidestepping a group of colorfully veiled anthropoid bipeds.
D'Argo looked up from the kiosk piled high with spiny-round, pale things that appeared to be some kind of tuber. "Yes," he said. His glance slid back to the vegetables.
"Then why are we here again' Other than it's too hot for Aeryn," John demanded, tucking himself in close to D'Argo's side as he was nearly trampled by yet another thickly veiled procession.
D'Argo grunted under his breath. "Because we're being disciplined for dereliction of duty, John."
John laughed and half-turned to squint at the street market festooned with vivid green and purple awnings. "Dereliction of duty, my ass. We were just having a little fun." John turned back and dug around in the pocket of his leather duster, producing a red food cube crumbling around the edges. He bit into it and looked up at D'Argo with an innocent flutter to his eyelashes. "You and Chiana used to go at it all over Moya. I don't see Aeryn's problem."
"John --" D'Argo started.
John waved the half-nibbled food cube in the air and barreled on over D'Argo. "I mean, sure, she walked in on us and saw me on my knees with your dick down my throat, but she's probably just being uptight 'cause she's not getting any and you were making enough noise to rouse a that deaf, dumb and blind guy that played a mean pinball."
"John --" D'Argo started again, shifting uncomfortably.
"Hell, and maybe she's a little pissed because I got tired of waiting for her libido to unthaw again, 'cause god forbid Officer Aeryn Sun ever feel the need for a little slap and tickle." John popped the rest of the food cube into his mouth and munched noisily.
"We were in Command, John," D'Argo said, taking advantage of the momentary lapse in diatribe. "On top of the strategy table. With our Comm badges broadcasting on an open channel. Pilot was not amused."
John offered an insincere, "Oops?" and tweaked one of D'Argo's tentacles.
D'Argo growled low in his throat and pressed toward John. John smirked and slipped out of his grasp, practically running farther into the bazaar. "Get back here, John."
John paused at a kiosk that displayed a set of square crystal containers filled with a kind of blue gel and allowed D'Argo to catch up with him. "I love it when you go all butch on me, baby."
"I am not your baby," D'Argo muttered, anchoring his hand on the back of John's duster to keep him at his side.
John craned his neck back to look D'Argo in the eyes, walking his fingers up D'Argo's red tunic to tangle in his hanging braids. The skin crinkled around his eyes. "Okay, you're not my baby. You're my big hunk of burning man bone."
D'Argo stifled a snort, unclenching his hand from John's leather coat and flattening his palm in order to steer John forward through the market. "That's...better."
"Better?" John guffawed, dragging his feet until D'Argo started pulling him forward by his arm . "No, no, no. If you like that, then that's what I'm calling you from now on. All the time. If I need to find you on Moya, I'm going to get on Comm and ask for my big hunk of burning man bone and everybody is going to know it's you because you're the only other one who's got the right," John said, eyes flickering down to D'Argo's crotch, "equipment, 'cause Rygel sure isn't built that way."
D'Argo flushed when a passing alien gave the two of them a strange look and leaned down. "Be quiet, John."
"Okay, fine, Mr. Pissy Pants," John said. "You're no fun."
D'Argo slid his hand down John's arm to tangle their fingers together. "That's not what you said two arns ago."
"Touché," John said. D'Argo absently brushed his hand over John's spiky hair and tugged him forward again by their joined hands, heading toward the food.
D'Argo haggled over the displayed variety of foodstuffs at a large kiosk, John quiet at his side until he caught D'Argo's attention with a quiet, "Huh."
"What is it?"
John shook his head. "I don't know. Nothing. Never mind."
"Fine," D'Argo said, turning back to accept the bag of provisions from the veiled clerk.
"It's just..." John trailed off.
"What?"
"You notice anything funny about this place, D'Argo?"
"It is pleasantly warm," D'Argo observed, glancing around the innocuous street market only to settle his eyes on a droplet of sweat that was making its way down John's temple. "But other than that, no."
"Yeah, it's hotter than a whore on nickel night." John let go of D'Argo's hand and wiped at the bead of sweat impatiently. "But you don't see it?"
"See what, John?"
"There aren't any men," John said, pivoting in a circle. "Guys. Y'know, males with outies like females have innies. Unless these people are like the, uh, Yenen or the Zenetans or whatever," John flashed D'Argo a grin. "And that would just shoot all
my gender theories to hell."
"What's the problem, John?" D'Argo asked patiently.
John shrugged. "No problem. It's just...hinky."
"Hinky," D'Argo repeated. He raised an eyebrow ridge.
"You know, weird. Strange. Odd. Queer. And I would kill for a thesaurus right now, 'cause that word is so loaded for me anymore," John said.
D'Argo made a put-open noise. "Aeryn was right. You are bizarre."
"Keep that up," John said, standing on his tiptoes in his boots to raise his head above D'Argo's shoulder level, "and you won't be getting any later."
D'Argo him a predatory smile. "I already 'got mine', John."
John groaned. "Oh, man. No fair. I was just kidding." He shifted closer and nudged himself against D'Argo's strong thigh. "I've been fighting a bad case of blue balls since Aeryn booted us out of Moya." John hissed when D'Argo's broad palm slid
between their bodies to cup the bulge at his groin, the heat and humidity of the planet practically molding the leather pants to his cock.
"You are indeed a pitiable creature," D'Argo said. He slid his other hand around John's waist under his duster.
"I love it when you talk dirty to me," John said, wheezing out a chuckle when D'Argo's grip tightened. He moved his hands to D'Argo's shoulders. "You know what I want, D'Argo' Hmm?" John's voice dropped into a low rasp, tinged faintly with a honeyed southern accent. "I want you to take your tongue, that long, long tongue of yours and --"
D'Argo halted the direction of John's request by simply thrusting his tongue between John's parted lips. John tilted his head and swayed closer on the edge of a moan. They rubbed together for a moment, jaws wide, each intent on tasting the slick warm mouth of his partner. D'Argo pulled back slightly, swiping his tongue along John's full lower lip.
"Was that what you wanted?" he asked.
"Mm. Nice," John said, nuzzling D'Argo's tattooed chin. "But I was thinking lower. A lot...lower. Behind the South Pole, if you know what I mean."
"Uh, John," D'Argo said, abruptly removing his hand from John's hardening crotch.
"What?" John demanded. He looked up. "Oh. I'm guessing they're not here to play monkey in the middle."
At some point during their mutual distraction, they had been ringed by group of veiled females armed with rifles and glinting bits of metal. John and D'Argo pivoted until they were shoulders to back, John's hand resting on the blaster strapped to his thigh, D'Argo's qualta blade drawn.
John raised his hand in a placating gesture. "Hey. Nice planet you got here. We were, uh, just passing through. We don't want any trouble."
One of the armed females stepped forward, loosening her bright green veil to only reveal a pair of eyes with white irises that expanded sideways like a cat. "Foreign males are not allowed on our homeworld at the time of the Spawning," she said. "Explain yourselves."
"I don't suppose ignorance of your traditions will win us any gravy points?" John said. When the alien simply blinked, he said, "No, I didn't think so. Look, we can leave. No problem. We were just here to buy food."
The alien shook her head, veil rustling. "No. Your female controller must vouch for your activities and escort you off-planet."
John tilted his head back and murmured to D'Argo, "Female controller' It figures. We've got a blind date with destiny, and it looks like she's ordering the lobster. I pay and pay and *pay* and still I don't get any action."
"I can't take you anywhere," D'Argo muttered back. "And what is this 'lobster'?"
"Tell you later," John said. He activated his Comm badge. "Oh, Aeryn' Pick up, Aeryn. Brilliant piece of strategy, sending us down here, Aeryn."
"What is it, Crichton?" John's badge broadcast Aeryn's irritated voice.
"We've got a problem," he said, eyeing the armed females who appeared to moving closer.
"No, I think *you're* the one with the problem, Crichton. Your raging hormones disgust me," Aeryn said.
"Don't let your sexual frustration get you down, Sunshine," John quipped, talking over Aeryn as she spluttered on the crackling channel. "Listen, Aeryn, D'Argo and I need Zhaan down here, *now*. Pronto. Like Flash Gordon, okay?"
"What have you done now, Crichton?"
John rolled his eyes. "I didn't *do* anything, Aeryn. I can't help being a guy, you know. I was born that way. Right now, guys aren't exactly allowed on this planet, and we're kind of surrounded by a bunch of big, angry Amazon types, so if you could get Zhaan down here to rescue our cute little butts--"
"You'll stop being such an exhibitionist?" Aeryn interrupted smoothly.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. I'll keep the one-eyed trouser snake in my pants in public," John said. "Just get her down here."
"This does not look good, John," D'Argo said, hefting his qualta blade as the natives continued to approach.
"Yeah, well, we're not exactly 'out-manned' but we're kind of outgunned here, big guy."
The de facto female leader took a step closer. "Your female controller is coming?"
John gave her a sharp nod. "Yeah. You can't miss her. She's all tall and blue."
John and D'Argo turned nervously within the circle of armed females, John's shoulder's fitting into the dip in D'Argo's back. Nearly a quarter of an arn later, the circled parted at one end to allow another through, Zhaan pausing to glance at her shipmates curiously. She gathered her trailing blue robes and approached their captor.
"I am Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan," she said, pressing her palms together and bowing slightly.
The alien female mimicked the gesture. "I am Fah Nang. Are these your property?"
"My property?" Zhaan said, amused. John was facing her and made a strangled noise, jutting out his lower jaw. "Why' What have they done?"
Fah Nang cradled her rifle in her crossed arms. Her pupils contracted to a sliver. "They have trespassed during our time of Spawning. Our people strive for genetic purity. Foreign males are not allowed during this cycle of female fertility. Our own males have already been secured. If your property have diluted a family line..."
Zhaan laughed. "If that is your only quarrel, Fah Nang, then surely you must know there is nothing to worry about?"
A line appeared between Fah Nang's eyes. "I do not understand."
"You did not realize that my property," Zhaan said, laying a blue palm on both John and D'Argo's shoulders, "are mated' There is no need to fear that either would spread his genetic material indiscriminately."
John craned his neck around to look D'Argo in the face. "That's right, big guy. I catch you with anybody else and I'm using your mivonks for target practice."
D'Argo gave him a toothy grin. "And if I catch you, I'll figure out exactly why you insist on 'no hitting below the belt'."
John chuckled. "That's my big hunk of burning man bone."
Zhaan's grip tightened on their shoulders and they fell silent. "Is that satisfactory to you, Fah Nang?"
The alien female stood still for several microts until she finally nodded and fastened her veil so that it covered her eyes once more. "Take your property and leave. Immediately."
"We thank you, Fah Nang, and apologize for any inconvenience to you and your people." Zhaan nodded and pushed them forward, holding onto them until they were clear of the street market and within sight of the transport pod in which John and D'Argo had arrived.
John rolled his shoulders when her hand fell away. "Thanks, Zhaan."
She arched a speckled brow. "Do see that you and D'Argo arrive on Moya without further incident, John."
"Hey, this one wasn't our fault, Zhaan," John said to Zhaan's retreating back. "It's not like we've been following the Magic Eight Ball's advice like a couple of knuckleheads, or anything!" John propped his fists on his hips when Zhaan turned a corner and glared after her. "They're treating us worse than the god damned slug boy. I can't believe this, big guy. Maybe if we weren't exclusive, they would get laid more often and their senses of humor would come back."
D'Argo pulled John into the transport pod and sat him down in one of the piloting chairs, settling himself in the other. He activated the controls and began to maneuver them back to Moya. Once they were airborne, he turned to John, who was still grumbling under his breath, and said in a low rumble, "Tell me again what you want me to do with my tongue."
http://www.slashcity.org/~shrift/