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2020-11-05
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The Golden Whatsit

Summary:

Disclaimer: I don't own Farscape or any related characters, ideas, etc. Or the Greek/Roman myths, though I don't think anyone really does. Just read it, and don't expect to buy, sell, or sue anything, okay?
Spoilers: Not a one!
Rating: PG.
Archiving: Probably, but please email me first
Feedback: Please, always!
Summary/Notes: I was in latin class the other day, and the prof told us the myth about how the Trojan War began. The Roman (well, Greek, actually, but the names have been changed to protect the egotistical) Gods and Goddesses were having a great big shindig for somebody's wedding, and as always happens in these stories, there was an oversight on the guest list. Well, off the guest list, but you know what I mean. In this case, it was Eris, the Goddess of Discord, who didn't get an invitation. And of course she showed up anyway, and decided to have a little fun with the others. She tossed a golden apple into the crowd, said it was 'for the fairest', and vanished in a poof of special fx. Now, don't ask me why, but the Goddesses all thought this apple was pretty spiffy. Minerva (Goddess of Wisdom, not to mention War), Juno (Goddess of Marriage and Queen of the Gods), and Venus (Goddess of Love) each insisted that she and she alone was Ms. Mount Olympus, and deserved the prize. Jupiter (King of the Gods) wasn't about to get in the middle of this cat-fight, so he suggested they go ask an unbiased mortal dude, and a guy called Paris was picked. Each of the Goddesses appeared to him, and made him promises. Minerva promised wisdom, Juno earthly riches and a happy marriage, and Venus promised to make the most beautiful woman in the world Paris' bride. Surprise surprise, Venus won, and Paris eloped with Helen of Troy (who just happened to be married already, which is where the whole war thing comes in). So, you're probably wondering why the frell I'm telling you all this? Well, hearing that story, I couldn't help but think of Farscape (not that that's uncommon with me!). And I started wondering...wouldn't this story fit our intrepid crew rather nicely? Aeryn as Minerva, Zhaan as Juno, Chiana as Venus, and Crichton filling in for Paris? Of course, the ending would have to be rewritten just a little…
Submitted through the AerynsFarscape mailing list.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The Golden Whatsit
by Elflore

"Crichton! Just the being I wanted to see!"

John sighed. "What are you up to this time, Sparky?"

"Up to? Why nothing, of course not!" huffed Rygel. "Here, catch."

By pure reflex, Crichton did; something resembling a gilded softball, covered in tiny blinking lights. "What's this supposed to be? And why are you throwing it at me?"

Rygel was already spinning his thronesled about and heading out the door. Crichton had to jog after and drag him back into the room before he got anything close to an answer. "I don't know!"

"If you really didn't know, you'd hang onto it until you did," John said quietly; there was the barest hint of a threat in his voice. "You at least know enough not to want it, and you're going to tell me why that is, Guido."

"All right, all right! It's a Verinsyp!"

"A whatsit?"

"Don't you know *anything*, human?"

"No, I don't. That's why I'm asking you."

"A Verinsyp," Rygel repeated, slowly and acidly. "Every female wants one."

"And why is that?"

Rygel chuckled, low in his throat. "You know, there are times I almost pity your ignorance."

"Okay, just never mind. So now you're probably going to tell me that Aeryn, Zhaan and Chiana are all fighting over this thing?"

"You're *almost* smarter than you look, Crichton. Yes, they are. Some fahrbots trader down on that last commerce planet gave it to us, but said it could only belong 'to the fairest'. What the yotz was that supposed to mean?"

Crichton raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like one of those girls caught his eye..."

"If so, he could have been so kind as to mention which one. Instead, he passed this off to me to choose!"

"And the problem with that is...?"

"Use your remaining brain cell, Crichton! Whichever one I pick, the other two will want my head on their wall! But now…make that whichever one *you* pick."

With that, Rygel punched the thrusters on his hoverchair, and vanished down the corridor. Just as Zhaan came around the corner. John tried to hide the sphere behind his back, but not fast enough.

"Ah, Crichton. I see you've found the Verinsyp Rygel stole."

John kept his face carefully neutral, but that alone told Zhaan what had happened.

"He told you, didn't he?" John nodded, and she smiled faintly. "Very well. And I realize the choice, for you, is most likely a simple one. So allow me to complicate it. I have been considering, recently, the wormhole data the ancients implanted in your mind. I believe, through our shared bond of Unity, I might be able to draw that information out. And help you create a pathway home." Her smile turned predatory. "If I were so inclined, of course."

"I'll think about it," John promised. Just as Chiana appeared in the doorway with a predatory smile of her own, albeit one with a lot more mischief thrown in.

"And we'll take your complications as a given, Pip," John said, even before she could open her mouth.

She'd barely begun to pout when Aeryn appeared, striding briskly between the other two ladies. "John, I need a word with you. Alone."

"Yeah, sure, Aeryn. Of course."

Zhaan was already gliding away, confident and serene as ever. Chiana scowled petulantly for a moment before following.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me just what this golden whatsit is used for, are you? Or why it's so valuable?"

"No."

John tugged at one ear, grinning impishly. "Well, you know....Zhaan and Chi have already made some...intriguing offers. How 'bout you, Aeryn? What this worth to ya?"

Aeryn grinned right back. "Simple, John. I won't break your neck."

John blinked, nodding thoughtfully. "Works for me!"

* * *

And that's how Aeryn Sun became the proud owner of a golden whatsit.

Oh, what was it for?

Let's just say John decided that night that he'd definitely made the correct decision.

And in the evil tradition of Farscape writers everywhere, that's....

THE END

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author elflore.
If this work is yours and you would like to reclaim ownership, you can click on the Technical Support and Feedback link at the bottom fo the page.