TITLE: "MY ENEMY, MY FRIEND"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/CRAIS

RATING: NC-17. M/M. *SLASH*

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "SAFE IN THE ARMS OF LOVE"

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"MY ENEMY, MY FRIEND"
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
* * * * *

Zarok was deep in thought. Orla did not dare say or do anything to interrupt. Her place was well defined and at the lowest end of service. At last Zarok spoke. "This collar has been expertly disarmed but Chiana must have been in a hurry. We *can* repair it."

Orla nodded but said nothing. Waiting. Zarok's eyes darkened. "The repair will however delay us." His black eyes shone as he considered his course. "Orla, have the remote sensors been activated?"

"They have." She bowed slightly.

"And Scorpius has been given the code?"

She nodded. Zarok pressed his lips together in a tight thoughtful line. "Then let us finish this. Once the collar is operational again, let the hunt begin!"

* * * * *

It felt good to be clothed. Walking about the leviathan was theraputic but strange. Born of Moya yet nothing like Moya. He could not quite put his finger on it. It was not just the fact that Talyn was male. Nor the fact that he was a gunship. It was something else. Something he could not define still less understand. Crais walked with him the first couple of circuits of the ship then Crichton asked to be left to find his own way around. Crais frowned, the tendancy to be overprotective having to be fought. Crichton was right. If he was ever to regain any independence he would need to familiarise himself with the layout of wherever he happened to be, commit it
all to memory, then use that information instead of his eyes. Crais left Crichton heading towards the cargo hold. He wanted to take the opportunity this presented to have a quiet little talk with Talyn.

Once back in command, Crais subvocalised. He did not want Crichton walking in and hearing their conversation. The three-way link only worked effectively when Crichton was in the pod bay. Right now, the pod bay was the last place Crais wanted the human to be. At least until he had
straightened a few things out with the young leviathan. <Talyn, we need to talk>

He felt something akin to nervousness in the leviathan. <Talk?>

<Yes, Talyn. You know how I feel about you. How deep is our bond> He paused a microt. <You also know I care for John. Deeply>

He could feel the leviathan's agreement.

<Exciting him in his sleep is not something I would have expected of you. Why did you do this?">

Crais kept his voice carefully neutral, hands clasped behind his back, cloak swirling gently, darkly around his ankles as he moved. He did not want to panic Talyn by letting him think he had done something wrong even if he had.

<I was curious>

<John has lost a lot of fluid, Talyn>

<It will be replaced>

<That is not the point. Curiosity I can understand> He purred softly. He felt the leviathan start to cautiously relax. <You drained him. Not once but repeatedly. This indicates some purpose>

He sensed Talyn quail, the leviathan silent.

<Talyn. Tell me what is going on. I want to understand. I do not wish harm to come to John. It would *distress* me>

<I have been gentle. Careful. I have not hurt him>

Crais nodded. <I do not doubt that. What I meant was that by arousing him while you have induced a deep sleep you have not been fair to him. If you wish to know him better might I suggest you merge with him while he is awake. As I have done>

<What if he rejects me?>

<It would be *his* choice> Said Crais softly. <*His* choice Talyn, not yours>

* * * * *

Aboard his Command Carrier, Scorpius waited for the Captain to speak.

"It is a transmission from the Nebari."

"They have found the leviathan?"

She listened then shook her head. "Moya is gone, the control collar was found floating in space. Disabled."

A tiny wisp of a smile touched death's head lips. "Never underestimate a Nebari, Captain."

Whatever she thought about that advice she kept hidden. Her face a mask. "Zarok asks that we notify them if we sight Moya. They will do the same for us if they see Talyn."

Scorpius nodded. "Of course."

He waited while the Captain sent the message back.

"We should always support our allies." He said with a strange subtle inflection in his voice.

The Captain managed to hide the shiver that touched her inside. Power. This was what it felt like up close. This was what she craved.

* * * * *

Crichton was feeling more comfortable now. He missed having Crais right next to him but knew he had to do this on his own. Had to know that if something happened he would not be a liability to his friend. He stopped walking. Savouring the word. Tasting the thought in his mind. Friend. Since when had Bialar Crais become his friend? He chuckled softly. It felt good to no longer be afraid of him. Felt better to remember how good his lips felt on his skin, his hands dancing slowly across his flesh, the rich timbre of his voice doing things to him that made him dizzy with joy. He smiled, happy. Content. He resumed walking, reminding himself of why this was important, feeling the warmth of the leviathan's skin as he touched his walls to guide him. As if in response, the skin of the ship warmed gently to his touch. His smile deepened. Affection. Touching the ship was like
touching his thoughts but not as strongly as the direct link he had when in the pod. He sensed that the ship cared. Not as deeply as Crais but it was there. The first tendrils, stirrings, of affection.

He was in the cargo bay now. His steps slowed, knowing there were probably boxes and supplies and so on that he could walk into, fall over or otherwise hurt himself on if he was not careful. He was slow, he was deliberate, he was careful. Not hurrying, just cataloguing it in his mind as he moved. Counting his footsteps to gauge how big the bay was, its' length and its' breadth being drawn in his mind. Something brushed against his foot. He stopped. Frowned. What was that? He waved his hands slowly in front of him. Nothing. Took a half step forward and felt it again. Whatever it was it was not tall. Sounded metallic. He hunkered down, hands slightly outstretched to feel for what was before him. He felt nothing until he was close to the ground then the familiar scarab shape of a DRD formed beneath his fingers. A look of surprise overtook his curiosity. <A
DRD? Here? On Talyn?>

He wondered why that surprised him. Of course there would be DRDs on Talyn. Moya had them so would her son. Right? But he had never seen any all the time he had been on board Talyn. Maybe Crais did not like being distracted by them. He knew from his own experience aboard Moya that the rest of his companions ignored the little guys as if they were merely background noise. An irritation they had to endure because Moya needed them. His hands gently felt round the little droid, wondering why it was not moving, no gentle hum of its' circuits thrumming up through its' biomechanoid shell. Had it been decommisioned? If so, how? Why? His fingers touched a light stalk and he felt a tremor. Faint but there. As his hand brushed the second lightstalk he felt something catch the back of his hand. What was that? He gently moved backwards and came up against the feel of tape. His heart missed a beat. It could not be. Carefully he felt all along the lightstalk, mapped out the width of the tape on the damaged stalk and hissed in a breath. Worried now. "Hey Blue, what are you doing here, fella? And why did mama send you?"

Blue could not respond but Crichton fancied the tiny tremor he had felt before was somehow calmer now. He picked the little droid up carefully not wanting to hurt him. Wondered if Crais had any tools he could borrow. How he was going to fix him when he could not see. He made his way back to command, a mission now. Crais looked up, surprised to see Crichton with a DRD. He frowned.

"Hey Bialar, I didn't know Talyn had any DRDs."

He did not see the look of distaste on Crais's face. "Yes. He is a leviathan and the DRDs were created to service them but they annoy me so they stay out of sight. Where did you find that one?"

"This little guy?" Crichton smiled affectionately. "This is an old friend, Bialar."

The black brows rose. The human always surprising him, not necesarily in ways he approved of. "What is it doing on my ship?"

Crichton felt his way to a seat and sat down, not letting go of the DRD for a microt. "I don't know. My guess is Moya sent him."

"Moya?"

"Yeah, as a way of keeping in contact with Talyn."

Crais shook his head thoughtfully. "No. If Talyn were in contact with Moya I would know it."

"Then I guess he came to keep an eye on me." Crichton's smile was gentle. Crais was fascinated by the care he showed the droid. It was absurd. Only someone like Crichton would care what happened to a DRD. He wanted to snort, to say something scathing and derisive but he found it
somewhat touching. A quality of the human that he did not always understand but could not help loving him for.

"Hey! Earth to Crais."

He frowned. "Yes?"

"Thought you'd left me for a moment."

"No, no John. I am still here."

"Good because I need your help. You got any tools I can borrow? I want to try and get this little fella back on his feet. Perhaps find out what happened to him."

"He?"

Crichton grinned. "Did your mama never tell you about the birds and the bees, Bialar?"

The frown darkened. "Birds and bees?"

"Facts of life. You see there are male DRDs and there are female DRDs and then there are little guys like this one and...."

Crais snorted, losing patience now but not cross. "That is utter nonsense, Crichton."

He laughed openly now. "Crichton? What the hell happened to John?"

Suddenly he felt warm air stir against his cheek, the distinctive spicy musk that was Crais so close to him it made his skin tingle. "Yes, what happened to him?" His voice rumbled softly, passionate velvet caressing his ear.

Then Crais was kissing him, gently, his hand brushing across his face, through his hair, angling his head so that he could kiss him on the mouth, explore and gently describe his passion for him without the clumsy need for words. Crichton trembled and was tempted to put the DRD down, to
follow the urgings of his partner but thinking about the DRD brought him out of that craved for passion. "Uh Bialar, can we come back to this in a microt?"

Crais was amused. "Are you saying you don't want this?"

"No, I'm saying I need to get this DRD fixed first."

His words were very gentle, not wanting Crais to feel he had been dumped for a droid however cute the droid might be. He felt a little sigh then Crais moved back, his lips lingering as he drew away from him. "Of course."

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

Crichton felt Crais touch his lips with a wondering hand, the fingers gently grazing them then stroking his cheek with love, with deep affection. Crichton gave everything he was thinking away on his face but Crais did the same with his touch. Better than braille. "Tools," He asked softly. "Do you have any tools?"

"Yes, John. I have what you need."

He worked carefully, slowly. Painstakingly gentle. It fascinated Crais. He had not intended to watch but he could not take his eyes off him as he worked. The little DRD was on one of Talyn's inactive panels. Crichton had laid it on its' side and felt his way right round him until he found the place where the shell joined the base. He was so tender with him that Crais found himself viewing the irritating little things in a different perspective. Glimpsing them just for a microt through his lover's eyes. He shook his head. The human was completely fahrbot but addictive. Oh yes. He
was fast learning that he could not get enough of John Crichton. Crichton's exasperated little sigh brought Crais out of his reverie.

"I'm stuck here, Crais. I can't see the circuitry and I'm not sure what I should be looking for."

Crais made a non-commital sound. The closest he could come to feeling sorry for a DRD.

"Talyn has DRDs of his own, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I could ask some of them to help."

Crais barked a harsh laugh, surprised and astonished at this new level of absurdity. "John, I have put up with this nonsense for your sake but this is going too far."

"Why?"

The simple innocent word of query stopped Crais short. Why? He found it was a question he could not answer. He sighed. "Very well, I will ask Talyn to send some to you. How many do you need?"

He shrugged. He had no idea. "Better ask for a couple."

Within microts a couple of DRDs rolled into command and hesitated at the threshold. Crais glared at them as if they were the cause of every negative thing in the universe including black holes. They sensed his hostility towards them. <Talyn, tell the DRDs to go to John. I don't want them
anywhere near me>

Talyn passed the message on and the two DRDs rattled cautiously over to where Crichton was sitting. He felt one gently bump against his shoe, letting him know he was there. Crichton smiled. Talyn must have warned them that he could not see. "Thanks Talyn."

"What are you thanking *him* for?"

"It's called manners, Bialar." Said Crichton noting how grumpy Crais sounded. "And you could do with a little of that yourself."

Crais lapsed into silence and got back to checking the ship's data bases and star charts. Still hoping to find someone who could help restore his friend's sight. But he was distracted now. Curious to see how Crichton fixed the DRD. Whether he could do it. Somehow he had the
conviction that Crichton could accomplish anything he set his mind to. The human's resourcefulness was only outmatched by his sheer ingenuity and stubborn determination. Crichton spoke softly to the two new DRDs. Told them who he was and introduced them to Blue, then he told them he was going to pick them up and put them on the work surface next to Blue to see if they could help. He paused and some kind of odd little conversation seemed to pass between
Talyn's DRDs and Crichton. Crais wanted to laugh but he was too fascinated. How did he do that? How did he get something as basic and lowly as a DRD to respond to him?

Pretending to work, Crais watched. Saw Talyn's DRD's inspect the damaged one. Crichton gently touching the interface when prompted by the DRD's to see what was wrong, to follow what they were doing to help. It was crazy. Absurd. Ludicrous. The human was bartantic. Tinked. Fahrbot. And Crais had the nagging suspicion that the longer he stayed with him the closer to insanity he would be drawn also. Yet it was a beautiful insanity. Did something curious to the organic lump in his chest where his heart should be. Made him cherish this human more. In the name of Cholok, how was it possible to love this human so much? Yet, every microt his heart grew and grew only to accommodate him more. A muted bleep on his console brought Crais out of his reverie. He looked down and held his breath. He had found someone. In this huge great maw of Unchartered Territories a way had been found out of this madness. He smiled and sent a tentative message, wanting to find out more about the specialist. What level of expertise he had, what species he was familiar with and so on. The queries were sent and the answers requested in non-formal linear code. He did not explain why and his contact did not ask. As long as he could meet the price he could literally buy anything. He glanced across at where Crichton worked and smiled gently. He could buy anything but he could not *own* it. All the things that really mattered had to be given or they meant nothing at all. His enemy had taught him that and in doing so had become his dearest friend.

* * * * *

Scorpius leaned back with smug satisfaction. He noticed the Captain watching him but did not care. Soon he would have Crichton, Crais and Talyn. The message had been brief and to the point. Someone was seeking out a surgeon. One with very particular skills. One who would not ask questions. It had to be Crais. He smiled and watched the Captain key in the new co-ordinates. Not to intercept this time. No. He wanted to let them think themselves safe. Let them have their taste of freedom. The brief euphoria of thinking they had escaped. That they had won. He could not wait to see the look on their faces when his trap closed in on them. When he would have
Crichton in his hands again. He had plans for Crais too but it was the human he wanted and the human he would have...

* * * * *
END